LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT  OF" 
THE   FAMILY  OF   REV.   DR.  GEORGE   MOOAR 

Class 


THE 


SENSUALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY 


THE   NINETEENTH    CENTURY, 


CONSIDERED 


UY 


ROBERT  L.  DABNEY,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

PHOI-BSSOR  m  DIVINITY  IN  THE  UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,   OF  THE   PKESBYTEKIAN 

CHURCH    OF   THE   SOUTH,    PRINCE    EDWARD,   VA. 


ANSON    D.    F.  RANDOLPH   &  COMPANY, 
770  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


~D3 


COPYRIGHT,    1875,   BY 

ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  Co. 


EDWARD   O.  JENKINS, 

J'Hl.VTKK    AXD    STEREOTYPER, 

20  NORTH  WILLIAM  ST.,  N.Y. 


ROBERT   RUTTER, 

BI.VDEH, 
84  BEEKMAK  STREET,  N.Y 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  -PACW. 

I.  THE  ISSUE  STATED,         ......  i 

II.  REVIEW  OF  THE  SENSUAI.ISTIC  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE 
PREVIOUS  CENTURY.  —  HOBBES,  LOCKE,  CONDIL- 

LAC,  HELVETIUS,  ST.  LAMBERT,         ...  7 

III.  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  HUMAN  MIND,      .         .         .         .  S2 

IV.  SENSUALISTIC  ETHICS  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN,     .         .  85 
V.  POSITIVISM, 93 

VI.  EVOLUTION  THEORY,    .         .         .         .         .         .  107 

VII.  PHYSIOLOGICAL  MATERIALISM,          .         .         .         .131 

VIII.  SPIRITUALITY  OF  THE  MIND,          .         .         .         .  137 

IX.  EVOLUTION     THEORY    MATERIALISTIC,    THEREFORE 

FALSE, Tf>5 

X.  VALIDITY  OF  A- PRIORI  NOTIONS,          .        .        .  208 

XI.  ORIGIN  OF  A.PRIORI  NOTIONS,          .         .         .  245 

XII.  REFUTATION  OF  SENSUALISTIC  ETHICS,         .         .  287 

XIII.  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE  SUPERNATURAL,         .         .  337 


088 


SENSUALISTIC    PHILOSOPHY. 


CHAPTER 

THE    ISSUE    STATED. 

TT^NGLISHMEN  and  Americans  frequently  use  the 
L^  word  "  sensualist"  to  describe  one  in  whom  the 
animal  appetites  are  predominant.  We  shall  see  that 
it  is  a  just  charge  against  the  Sensualistic  philosophy, 
that  it  not  seldom  inclines  its  advocates  to  this  dominion 
of  beastly  lusts.  But  it  is  not  from  this  fact  that  we 
draw  the  phrase  by  which  we  name  it.  The  Sensualistic 
philosophy  is  that  theory,  which  resolves  all  the  powers 
of  the  human  spirit  into  the  functions  of  the  five  senses, 
and  modifications  thereof.  It  is  the  philosophy  which 
finds  all  its  rudiments  in  sensation.  It  not  only  denies 
to  the  spirit  of  man  all  innate  ideas,  but  all  innate 
powers  of  originating  ideas,  save  those  given  us  from 
our  senses.  It  consequently  attempts  to  account  for 
every  general  and  every  abstract  judgment,  as  an 
empirical  result  of  our  sensations,  and  consistently 
denies  the  validity  of  any  h  priori  ideas.  Such  was  the 
philosophy  which  was  dominant  in  France  at  the  close 
of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  and  which,  untaught  by  the 
frightful  results  it  produced  there,  is  now  striving  again 
to  establish  its  dominion  among  us  towards  the  close  of 
the  nineteenth  age. 

The   great   men   who,  in   France,  raised   again   the 

(i) 


2  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

standard  of  a  truer  philosophy,  Maine  de  Biran,  Royer 
Collard,  and  later,  Victor  Cousin,  were  called  by  contrast 
"spiritualists."  Their  characteristic  doctrines  were  the 
distinct  assertion  of  a  separate,  spiritual  substance  in 
man,  soul,  spirit,  or  mind,  a  simple  monad  in  each  per- 
son, immaterial,  and  contrasted  with  all  material  masses 
in  its  essential  attributes;  the  relation  of  all  organs  of 
sensation  as  instruments  to  this  intelligent  spirit ;  its 
capacity  of  existing  and  acting  after  separation  from 
the  body ;  and  the  innate  power  of  this  substance  to 
originate  for  itself,  upon  occasion  of  the  particular  ideas 
presented  by  sensations,  valid  abstract  notions,  valid 
primitive  judgments  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  free 
desires  and  volitions.  I  should  be  perfectly  willing  to 
retain  this  name.  And  none,  perhaps,  could  be  found 
more  appropriate,  had  not  a  coarse  imposture,  which 
has  very  recently  become  current,  so  usurped  and 
denied  the  word  "  spiritualism,"  as  to  endanger  con- 
fusion of  ideas ;  and  had  not  some  earlier  writers  per- 
verted the  term  to  express  the  false  theory  of  the  pure 
idealist.  Let  it  then  be  understood,  that  the  philosophy 
which  I  maintain  against  the  Sensualistic,  or  exclusively 
empirical,  and  which  has  just  been  described,  shall  be 
called  the  Rational.  It  holds  that  the  human  intelli- 
gence is  not  a  bundle  of  organs,  but  a  pure  spirit ;  it 
asserts  for  man  a  Reason,  and  not  merely  senses  and 
their  modifications. 

In  the  eighteenth  century,  the  Sensualistic  philosophy 
appeared  under  many  phases ;  it  does  so  again  in  the 
nineteenth.  But  it  always  has  its  characteristic  traits, 
and  carries  its  own  dangers  to  truth,  virtue,  and  happi- 
ness. One  attempt  of  this  criticism  of  it  will  be  to  show 
that  it  always  involves  tendencies  to  erroneous  logic, 
vitiating  even  the  physical  sciences,  which  it  is  wont  to 
claim  as  its  peculiar  clients  ;  to  universal  scepticism  ; 
to  idealism  ;  to  nihilism  ;  to  the  obliterating  of  moral 
distinctions,  and  the  destruction  of  moral  responsibility  ; 


The  Issite  Stated.  3 

to  materialism  ;  to  a  denial  of  the  supernatural ;  and 
thus,  to  atheism.  Let  us  be  understood  :  we  do  not 
charge  that  every  Sensualistic  philosopher  holds  to  all 
these  results,  or  approves  them  ;  we  charge  that  they 
are  all  latent  in  the  system,  and  that  one  or  another  of 
them  is  continually  making  itself  patent  in  the  out- 
g-rowth  of  this  philosophy.  Of  this,  one  of  the  most 
instructive  proofs  is  the  historical ;  for  there  "  the  tree 
is  known  by  its  fruits."  We  shall,  therefore,  prepare 
the  way  for  the  stricter  criticism,  by  a  brief,  but  per- 
spicuous review  of  the  chief  movements  of  Sensualism, 
especially  in  our  own  age. 

The  chief  point  which  I  aim  to  make,  however,  in 
this  introduction,  is  my  emphatic  protest  against  the 
assumption,  now  so  common  among  the  Sensualistic 
school,  that  no  metaphysic  is  valid.  All  who  are  tinc- 
tured with  "  Positivist "  errors,  continually  exclaim, 
"  No  psychology  ;  away  with  metaphysics  !  Only  the 
phenomenal  is  true!"  They  wish  to  give  no  heed  to 
the  testimony  of  consciouness  ;  they  would  ignore  all 
subjective  first  truths,  and  confine  true  science  to  what 
sensations  reveal,  alone.  They  limit  the  light  of  "  Ex- 
perience," that  safest  of  guides,  to  their  experience  of 
the  objective.  Now  to  this  injustice  we  "  give  place  by 
subjection ;  no,  not  for  an  hour."  For,  what  is  any 
science  but  a  system  of  cognitions  ?  But  a  system  of 
cognitions  must  imply  principles  of  cognition  of  some 
sort ;  and  what  are  these  but  a  metaphysic  ?  These 
physical  Positivists  cheat  themselves,  in  supposing  that 
by  ignoring  separate  spiritual  substance  with  &  priori 
laws,  they  can  get  rid  of  this  truth.  Let  the  something 
which  knows  be  a  spirit  or  a  group  of  organs,  one  must 
have  principles  of  cognition,  all  the  same,  in  order  to 
have  systematized  thought.  Nothing  can  be  more 
obvious  than  that  the  successful  use  of  any  implement 
implies  some  knowledge  of  its  qualities  and  powers. 
And  this  is  as  true  of  the  mind. as  of  any  other  imple- 


4  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ment.  It  is  simply  impossible  that  one  can  construct 
any  other  branch  of  knowledge,  without  having  some 
science  of  psychology  and  logic  of  his  own.  In  other 
words,  he  must  have  accepted  some  laws  of  thought 
a  priori,  in  order  to  construe  his  own  thoughts.  If  he 
has  not  clone  it  in  words,  he  must  have  done  it  in  fact. 
This  is  true  of  all  common  men.  When  the  mechanic 
assumes,  without  present  experiment,  that  a  new  steel 
blade  will  cut  wood,  has  he  not  assumed  two  meta- 
physical truths  ;  the  presence  of  the  same  substance 
under  the  same  properties,  and  the  validity  of  his  own 
memory  concerning  past  experiments  ?  When  the 
gourmand  argues,  "  I  may  not  eat  minced  pies  to-night 
for  my  supper,  because  they  gave  me  frightful  dreams 
last  night,"  has  he  not  posited  a  logical  law  of  the  rea- 
son ?  Every  man  is  a  virtual  psychologist  and  logician 
(unless  he  is  idiotic) ;  he  cannot  trust  his  own  mind,  ex- 
cept as  he  believes  in  some  powers  and  properties  of 
his  mind  ;  these  beliefs  constitute,  for  him,  his  meta- 
physic.  Even  the  Positivist,  of  course,  has  his  psychol- 
ogy, although  he  repudiates  it  in  words.  And  this  is 
the  Sensualistic  psychology.  No  writers,  of  any  school, 
go  farther  than  the  leaders  of  the  Sensualistic  philoso- 
phy, in  speculations  which  have  every  trait  which  is 
expressed  by  the  word  "  metaphysical "  when  used  by 
the  people  in  an  evil  sense.  Nowhere  on  earth  can 
writings  be  found  more  psychological,  (that  is,  fuller 
of  a  false  psychology,)  more  abstruse,  more  subtle,  more 
obscure  or  more  illogical  and  unpractical,  than,  those  of 
the  most  recent  leaders  of  this  school.  All  these  phi- 
losophers love  to  applaud  the  inductive  laws  of  Lord 
Bacon,  and  to  contrast  them  with  the  unprofitableness 
of  metaphysics.  But  Bacon  does  not  undertake  to 
establish  physical  laws ;  he  proposes  to  settle  those 
principles  for  reasoning  from  facts  of  experience,  by 
which  any  and  every  physical  law  are  to  be  established. 
In  a  word,  it  is  metaphysics ;  only,  it  is  true  meta- 


The  Issue  Stated.  5 

physics.  So,  nothing  is  easier  for  the  perspicuous 
reader,  than  to  take  any  treatise  of  any  votary  of  the 
Sensualistic  philosophy,  and  point  to  instances  upon 
every  page,  where  he  makes  a  virtual  appeal  to  some 
principle  of  metaphysics.  Says  this  writer,  concerning 
some  theory  of  accounting  for  a  group  of  phenomena  : 
"  This  is  not  valid,  because  it  is  only  hypothesis."  But 
what,  I  pray,  is  the  dividing  line  between  hypothesis 
and  demonstrative  induction  ?  And  why  is  the  former, 
without  the  latter,  invalid  ?  The  answer  is,  metaphysics. 
"  The  post  hoc  does  not  necessarily  prove  the  propter 
hoc."  Tell  us,  why  ?  It  cannot  be  told,  without  talk- 
ing metaphysics.  "  Nothing,"  says  the  Positivist,  "  is 
demonstrable  except  what  is  experienced  in  sensa 
tions."  There  is,  then,  one  &  priori  principle,  at  least, 
of  the  human  .intelligence  ;  this  namely,  that  the  intui- 
tion of  sense-perception  is  valid,  if  all  other  intuitive 
judgments  are  baseless.  For  it  is  only  by  assuming 
the  validity  of  that  intuitive  judgment  at  the  outset, 
that  the  Positivist  ever  learned  anything  valid  by  sense- 
perception. 

But  above  all  do  we  insist,  that  the  facts  given  by  our 
subjective  consciousness  shall  be  admitted  into  the  rank 
of  experimental  evidences.  They  shall  be  granted  to 
be  even  more  empirical,  when  observed  with  due  care, 
than  any  objective  empirical  knowledge.  The  Sensual- 
istic philosophers  will  be  compelled  to  look  them  in  the 
face,  and  to  admit  their  force.  For  first,  in  claiming 
this,  we  are  really  pursuing  the  very  process  which 
they  profess  to  approve.  We  observe  and  compare  the 
experienced  facts  of  consciousness,  and  make  inductions 
from  them.  And  second,  we  show  that  it  is  only  by  rec- 
ognizing the  validity  of  the  facts  of  consciousness,  that 
any  one  can  receive  the  testimony  of  sensation.  If  I  do 
not  know  certainly,  that  there  is  a  conscious,  intelligent 
self,  who  sees  with  the  eyes,  still  less  can  I  know  that 
the  thing  seen  by  that  self  has  any  reality.  If  I  am  not 


6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

certain  beforehand,  that  the  self  who  saw  the  landscape 
last  year  is  the  self  who  recollects  it  now,  still  less  have 
I  any  assurance  that  memory  is  not  playing  me  false,  in 
seeming  to  reproduce  the  same  conception  formerly 
perceived  by  my  eyes. 


CHAPTER  II. 

REVIEW  OF  THE  SENSUALISTIC  PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE 
PREVIOUS  CENTURY. — HOBBES,  LOCKE,  CONDILLAC, 
HELVETIUS,  ST.  LAMBERT. 

§  i.  rpO  the  curious  mind  it  will  appear  remark- 
able, and  to  the  devout,  perhaps,  providen- 
tial, that  the  first  modern  expounder  of  the  Sensualistic 
philosophy  should  have  carried  it  most  fully  to  its 
legitimate  results.  Thomas  Hobbes,  of  Malmesbury 
(A.  D.  1588  to  1679),  taught  it  with  a  boldness,  ability, 
and  unblenching  consistencv,  which  make  his  specula- 
tions invaluable  to  us  :  he  shows  us  just  what  its  corol- 
laries are,  when  carried  out  with  a  rigid  logic,  from 
those  first  premises  which  are  common  to  all  the  school. 
We  may,  then,  ascribe  to  this  intellectual  giant  the 
"bad  eminence"  of  having  anticipated  all  the  fruit, 
which  history  has  subsequently  shown,  by  the  specula- 
tions of  his  followers,  and  by  the  calamities  these  specu- 
lations have  procured  for  their  people,  the  system  is 
fitted  to  bear.  He  enables  us  to  see  the  whole  develop- 
ment of  Sensualism  epitomized  in  one  man. 

Philosophy,  according  to  Hobbes,  has  for  its  object 
all  bodies  which  are  formed  and  possess  qualities. 
Physics,  then,  constitute  the  whole  of  true  philosophy. 
As  God  is  not  conceived  of  as  a  body,  or  as  having 
been  formed ;  to  philosophy  neither  His  existence  .nor 
attributes  are  cognizable.  Complaisance  to  the  Chris- 
tian prejudices  of  the  day  led  Hobbes,  instead  of  sim- 
ply denying  His  existence,  to  remit  its  discussion  to  the 

(7) 


8  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

separate  sphere  of  theology :  philosophy  has  no  more 
to  do  with  the  idea  of  a  God.  So,  Christian  usages 
make  us  talk  of  our  souls  as  spirits  ;  but  it  is  impossible 
to  have  any  evidence  of  an  immaterial  substance  ;  for  the 
only  evidence  is  that  of  conception,  which,  in  turn, 
comes  only  from  sensation.  The  only  definition  of  a 
soul,  then,  which  philosophy  can  admit,  is  "  a  natural 
body  of  such  subtility  that  it  does  not  act  upon  the 
senses,  but  which  fills  a  place,  as  would  the  image  of  a 
visible  body,  and  has  figure  (without  color)  and  dimen- 
sion." Our  souls  have  two  faculties,  conception  and 
movement.  Sensation  is  nothing  else  than  a  movement 
of  certain  parts,  which  exist  in  the  interior  of  the  sen- 
tient being,  and  these  parts  are  those  of  the  organs  by 
which  we  feel.  Sensations  are  the  principle  of  knowl- 
edge, and  all  knowledge  is  derived  from  them.  Thus, 
memory  consists  in  our  having  a  sensation  that  we 
have  had  a  sensation.  Imagination  is  a  sensation  which 
continues  with  feebler  force,  after  its  cause  has  ceased 
to  act,  like  the  wavelets  which  roughen  the  surface  of  a 
pool  for  a  number  of  moments  after  the  stone  has  fallen 
upon  it.  All  the  acts  of  generalizing,  naming  our  ideas, 
comparing,  and  reasoning,  are  but  associations  of  these 
sense-perceptions. 

Let  us  now  see  how  Hobbes  generates  the  emotional 
and  voluntary  powers  of  the  soul,  which  he  denomi- 
nates its  faculty  of  movement.  Says  he  :  Conceptions 
and  imaginations  (decaying  sensations)  are  only  certain 
movements  excited  in  a  substance  within1  the  head. 
This  movement  is  propagated  also  to  the  heart,  and 
either  concurs  with  or  retards  the  vital  movement 
there.  This  concurrence  we  call  "  pleasure,"  "  content," 
"  well-being  ;*'  this  retardation  we  call  "  pain,"  "  evil." 
The  objects  which  produce  the  concurrence  we  de- 
scribe as  pleasant ;  those  which  produce  the  retardation 
we  term  odious.  Love  and  hatred  are  only  these  feel- 
ings of  concurrence  or  retardation  again,  relatively  to 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.     9 

their  objects.  Farther :  this  concurrence  which  we 
call  "  pleasure  "  draws  toward  its  object,  and  this  re- 
tardation which  we  call  "  pain  "  repels  us  from  its  ob- 
ject. The  one  of  these  feelings  is  "  desire,"  and  the 
other  is  "  aversion,"  or,  relatively  to  the  anticipation  of 
pain  from  such  an  object,  "  fear."  Thus  we  have  the 
genesis  of  motives  in  the  soul ;  and  all  is  still  but  modi- 
fied sensation.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  the  phi- 
losopher will,  on  this  plan,  account  for  volitions.  In 
every  case  of  sudden  or  prompt  volition,  there  is  one 
desire  present  (desire,  being  but  sensation  of  pleasure 
modified),  and  volition  is  nothing  but  this  desire  un- 
checked, culminating  into  determination.  If,  however, 
another  object  cause  pain  in  the  mind,  the  first  desire 
will  be  counterpoised  by  the  fear.  To  this  first  pair  of 
feelings  may  succeed  still  another  desire,  and  another 
fear ;  and  a  third  or  fourth  pair  of  feelings,  between 
which  the  mind  oscillates  backwards  and  forwards. 
This  oscillation  is  what  we  call  "  deliberation."  As 
long  as  it  subsists,  no  determination  takes  place,  of 
course.  The  last  desire,  or  fear,  at  this  series  of  oscil- 
lations, happening  to  be  the  most  vivid  of  the  series, 
becomes  volition  !  Hear  his  own  words  :  (Human  Na- 
ture, Ch.  12,  §6.)  "  As  to  will  is  desire,  and  to  will  not 
to  act  is  fear,  the  cause  of  the  desire  or  the  fear  is  also 
the  cause  of  our  will."  And  again:  "  When  delibera- 
tion takes  place,  its  last  act  if  it  is  a  desire,  is  .volition, 
and  if  it  is  repugnance,  it  is  negative  volition  ;  so  that 
volition  and  desire  are  one  and  the  same  thing  consid- 
ered under  different  aspects."  "  The  liberty  of  willing 
and  not  willing  is  no  greater  in  man  than  in  other  ani- 
mals. Indeed,  in  one  who  feels  desire,  the  cause  of  the 
desire  precedes,  in  such  sort  that  the  desire  cannot  but 
follow  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  follows  necessarily."  It  is  too 
plain,  from  these  citations,  that  with  Hobbes  there  is  no 
true  liberty  of  the  human  spirit ;  and,  indeed,  he  con- 
fesses himself  a  fatalist.  In  this  he  is  thoroughly  con- 


io  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

sistent.  In  \his  view,  man's  liberty  is  merely  the  privi- 
lege to  execute  with  the  bodily  members  the  volition 
which  is  necessitated  by  the  objective  cause.  Of  true 
liberty,  that  s,  a  power  of  choice,  he  thinks  the  mind 
has  none.  T]  he  distinction  between  the  outward  in- 
d  the  subjective  desire,  and  that  between 
^nsibilities  and  the  conative  emotions  of 
totally  neglected.  The  object  causes  de- 
e  desire  not  counterpoised  is  volition  ! 


ducement  an 
the  passive  s 
the  soul,  are 
sire  ;  and  t 


Hence  the  human  spirit  is  the  passive  .victim  of  any 
objective  impression  ordained  for  it  by  fate  or  a  me- 
chanical necessity.  If  chance  or  Satan,  or  a  human 
seducer,  presents  a  purse  of  gold,  with  privacy  and 


opportunity, 


to  a  man  susceptible  of  cupidity,  the  voli- 


tion to  steal  it  is  as  purely 'an  effect  of  physical  neces- 
sity, as  pain  ^s  of  the  blow  of  a  bludgeon  which  breaks 
his  head.  And  the  man  is  precisely  as  irresponsible 
for  the  volition  as  he  is  for  the  pain. 

The  thoughtful  hearer  can  divine  hence,  in  advance 
of  Hobbes'  statements,  what  his  scheme  of  ethics  will 
be.  We  may  find  it  set  forth  with  perfect  perspicuity 
and  boldness,  in  a  few  sentences  :  "  Every  man  calls 
that  good  which  is  agreeable  to  himself,  and  that  evil 
which  displeases  him.  Thus,  since  each  man  differs 
from  others  by  his  temperament  or  his  mode  of  being, 
he  differs  from  them  in  his  distinction  between  the 
good  and  the  evil ;  and  there  exists  no  goodness  abso- 
lutely considered  wilhout  relation ;  for  the  goodness 
which  we  attribute  to  God,  even,  is  only  His  goodness 
relatively  to  us.  As  we  call  the  things  which  please  or 
displease  us  good  or  evil,  we  call  the  properties  by 
which  these  things  produce  these  effects,  goodness  or 
wickedness" 

"  Appetite,  or  desire,  being  the  commencement  of 
the  animal  movement  which  carries  us  towards  some- 
thing which  pleases  us,  the  final  cause  of  that  move- 
ment is  to  attain  the  end,  which  we  thus  call  the  de- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century,    n 

sign  :  and  when  we  attain  that  end,  the  pleasure  which 
it  causes  in  us  is  named  enjoyment.  Thus  good,  and 
designed  end,  are  the  same  thing  regarded  differently." 

We  are  thus  consistently  taught  from  Sensualistic 
premises,  that  there  is  no  uniform  standard  of  moral 
right:  that  there  is,  indeed,  no  moral  good  save  animal 
enjoyment — for  all  desires  are  "animal  movements'' — 
and  that  there  is  no  moral  motive  except  selfishness. 
Conscience  is  as  thoroughly  obliterated  by  this  scheme 
as  the  existence  of  the  fairies. 

Let  us  now  see  what  theory  of  political  society  is 
deduced  by  Hobbes  from  his  metaphysics,  in  his  treat- 
ises of  the  Citizen,  and  "  Leviathan."  We  must  re- 
member that,  according  to  him,  there  is  no  supreme 
uniform  standard  of  moral  obligation,  and  no  conscience 
in  man.  The  only  motive  of  rational  conduct  is  self- 
interest.  Hence,  Hobbes  naturally  infers  that  the  orig- 
inal conception  of  right  which  the  human  being  has,  is 
of  a  natural  right  to  appropriate  whatever  he  sees  will 
contribute  to  his  pleasure,  and  to  avoid  whatever  pro- 
duces pain.  By  the  same  reason  one  man  feels  this 
right,  every  other  feels  the  same.  The  natural  state, 
then,  is  one  in  which  each  man  tends  to  claim  all  things, 
and  to  resist  the  similar  claims  of  all  others.  But  by 
the  same  natural  right,  each  man  is  also  resisted. 
Hence,  the  state  of  nature  is  "  a  war  of  all  against  all." 
But  self-interest  cannot  become  enlightened  by  expe- 
rience, without  perceiving  that  this  war  of  all  against 
all  tends,  on  the  whole,  to  the  reduction  of  natural 
enjoyments  to  a  minimum,  and  to  the  universal  destruc- 
tion of  persons.  Hence,  the  first  acquired  desire  of 
nature  is  for  repose  from  this  endless  strife  of  warring 
wills.  How  shall  that  repose  be  sought  ?  Obviously,  only 
in  some  force  strong  enough  to  suppress  the  strife ;  for 
there  is  no  moral  principle  in  man  which  can  become  a 
regulative  standard.  The  competing  wills  of  individuals 
being  all  naturally  equal,  and  ail  properly  exorbitant, 


12  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

there  is  no  reasonable  umpire  between  them  but  the 
strong1  hand.  Might  makes  right.  He  who  is  able  to 
overpower  the  assailant  of  his  natural  good,  in  the 
competition,  if  he  chooses  not  to  destroy  him,  has 
thereby  a  perfect  property  in  the  spared  enemy.  Slav- 
ery and  violent  conquest  are  legitimate ;  and  in  this 
way  was  actually  originated  the  controlling  force 
which  calmed  the  universal  warfare  into  political  so- 
ciety. When  a  conqueror  had  compelled  a  sufficient 
number  of  subjugated  persons  to  work  and  fight  for 
him,  to  show  himself  practically  superior  to  all  others, 
he  was  recognized  as  the  suitable  ruler,  by  all  the  others 
whose  self-interest  taught  them  to  desire  repose.  Hence 
in  order  to  secure  the  peaceable  enjoyment  of  some 
natural  good,  they  submitted  their  claims  to  the  re- 
mainder to  the  powerful  man,  and  became  willingly  a 
part  of  his  subjugated  train. 

The  essence  of  political  power,  then,  is  force  ;  and  in 
order  to  gain  the  end  of  government,  repose,  it  must 
be  an  irresistible  force.  Government,  then,  should  be 
absolutely  despotic.  And  it  is  much  more  consistent 
that  it  should  be  an  absolute  monarchy  in  the  hands  of 
one  man.  The  ruler  is  absolute  proprietor  of  the 
persons  and  property  of  all  the  citizens;  he  is  wholly 
irresponsible  to  them,  as  to  all  earthly  authority.  For, 
in  passing  from  the  state  of  nature  into  the  political 
state,  each  person  surrendered  his  individual  inde- 
pendence absolutely  to  the  Ruler,  and  a  surrender  of 
this  kind  is  final  and  beyond  recall.  For,  by  this  act, 
right  of  resistance  is  for  the  people  annihilated  ;  and 
they  have  reduced  themselves,  as  holders  of  such  a 
franchise,  to  non-existence.  The  entrance  of  the  in- 
teger into  political  society  is,  as  to  his  separate  rights, 
final  suicide.  The  Ruler  is  master,  and  the  citizens 
are  property  :  property  has  no  appeal  against  its  own 
proprietor.  Any  right  of  conscience  against  the  Ruler's 
fiat  is,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  :  for  Hobbes 


Senszialistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.   1 3 

does   not   believe   in   any  conscience    that    can    have 
rights. 

I  have  begun  by  detailing  briefly  the  creed  of  this 
old  Sensualistic  philosopher,  because  his  ability  and 
boldness  have  carried  it  to  its  true  results.  It  will  be 
found  that  he  has  anticipated  by  two  hundred  years,  the 
Sensualistic  theories  of  our  own  day.  The  affinity  be- 
tween them  is  significantly  shown  by  their  zeal  in  re- 
publishing  his  almost-forgotten  works,  and  in  vaunting 
his  wisdom.  Some  of  them  may  shrink  from  his  ex- 
treme conclusions  ;  but  we  are  left  to  suppose  that  this 
moderation  is  rather  the  result  of  prudence  than  of  dis- 
approbation. 

The  purpose  at  this  time  is  not  so  much  to  refute,  as 
to  show  the  real  contents  of  this  scheme  of  metaphysics. 
In  consistency,  it  must  include  a  denial  of  spirit,  of  God,  of 
all  a  priori  judgments,  of  the  reason  and  abstract  ideas,  of 
all  moral  distinctions,  of  free  agency,  and  of  civil  liberty. 
It  leaves  man,  in  reality,  only  sense-perceptions,  appe- 
tites, and  associations  thereof,  presenting  them  in  ap- 
parent modifications  of  memory  and  experience.  The 
sole  plausibility  of  Hobbes'  description  of  human  nature 
arises  from  one  artifice,  that  he  has  availed  himself 
tacitly  of  the  great  fact  of  man  s  depravity,  to  construct 
a  sort  of  saturnine  travesty  of  his  practical  principles 
and  actions.  It  is  true,  that  a  multitude  of  men  are 
selfish  ;  that  they  habitually  disregard  moral  distinc- 
tions;  that  they  seem  slaves  to  animal  appetites,  and 
incompetent  to  aspire  to  any  other  than  animal  good  ; 
that  they  are  best  restrained  by  self-interest  and  fear. 
Hobbes'  philosophy  has  no  place  for  the  doctrine  of  sin 
and  of  conscience.  Hence,  it  is  plausible  for  him  to 
make  this  partial  induction,  and  to  ignore  the  great  con- 
stitutional principles  of  reason  and  conscience  in  the 
human  soul,  which,  in  a  true  analysis  of  human  nature, 
must  always  hold  the  prime  place,  and  which,  in  fact, 
utter  everywhere  a  constant,  though  often  an  unheeded, 


1 6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

the  ideas  themselves,  which  must  be  the  only  means  of 
acquainting  ourselves  accurately  with  them.  He  should 
then  have  begun  by  the  analysis,  and  inferred  the  origin 
of  our  ideas  from  their  qualities. 

-Locke,  having  proposed  first  to  ascertain  the  origin 
of  our  ideas,  begins  by  an  absolute  denial  of  all  innate 
ideas  and  principles  in  the  soul.  If  we  can  understand 
his  reasoning  (Book  I.,  Ch.  I.),  it  appears  to  be  simply 
this:  That  if  we  find  the  mind  furnished  with  natural 
faculties  for  acquiring  its  ideas,  it  is  unreasonable  to 
suppose  that  nature  has  given  us  any  innate  ones.  But 
the  former  is  obviously  true.  And  anyone  who  will  con- 
sult his  common  sense  impartially,  will  convince  himself 
that  the  only  ideas  he  has,  are  those  acquired  by  expe- 
rience in  the  use  of  those  faculties.  We  are  bound, 
then,  to  conclude,  that  previous  to  experience  of  sensa- 
tions, the  mind  is  a  blank,  a  tabula  rasa,  a  surface  sus- 
ceptible of  impressions,  but  absolutely  without  any  char- 
acters inscribed  upon  it.  And  this  conclusion  is  pushed 
so  unsparingly,  as  to  deny  not  only  innate  ideas,  but 
innate  principles  of  cognition. 

Thi:>  famous  demonstration  contains  two  glaring 
faults.  The  pious  author  is  misled  by  a  material  illus- 
tration suggesting  a  false  analogy.  The  mind  is  not  a 
tablet,  written  or  unwritten  by  nature;  it  is  an  intelli- 
gent agent.  It  is  not  a  surface,  but  a  spiritual  monad. 
And  second,  Locke  heedlessly  confounds  the  occasion 
of  the  genesis  of  ideas  with  the  cause.  It  may  be  per- 
fectly true,  that  the  intelligence  exerts  none  of  that 
cognitive  power  of  which  its  nature  makes  it  capable, 
and  discloses  none  of  those  ruling  norms  of  thought,  or 
feeling,  or  will,  which  are  originally  constitutive  of  it, 
until  it  is  stimulated  by  sensation.  But  from  this,  it  by  no 
means  follows  that  sensation  bestows  those  capacities  and 
laws.  To  state  this  confusion  of  reasoning  is  sufficient 
to  expose  it.  The  question,  whence  the  forms  of  thought 
and  the  ideas  which  seem  to  be  original,  must  be  decided 


Sens^taiistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    17 

by  wholly  another  process  than  Locke's ;  by  faithful 
analysis,  not  by  a  mere  concurrence  of  experiences. 
To  say,  for  instance,  that  the  mind  thinks  of  empty 
space  when  it  has  sense-perception  of  a  body  extended, 
is  far  short  of  proving  that  the  abstract  idea  comes  from 
the  sensation.  It  may  be,  that  it  comes  from  the  mind 
itself  upon  occasion  of  the  sensation.  And  that,  I  repeat, 
is  to  be  proved  or  disproved  by  something-  else  than 
mere  synchronism. 

Locke  defines  idea  as  anything  which  is  before  the 
mind  when  it  thinks.  He  traces  the  whole  operations 
of  the  mind  to  two  sources,  experience  and  reflection. 
Experience  means,  with  him,  our  objective  experiences 
through  the  senses.  And  the  mind's  reflective  processes 
contain  nothing  except  what  was  first  derived  from 
sensation.  Reflection  is  our  internal  experience.  The 
ideas  which  it  gives  us  are  those  of  the  operations  of 
our  spirits  upon  the  objective  experiences.  Here  we 
have  the  whole  account  of  the  processes  of  our  soul. 
Fortunately  for  Locke's  credit,  the  vagueness  of  his 
own  apprehension  of  the  reflective  processes  saved  him 
from  a  part  of  the  consequences  of  the  Sensuab'stic  phi- 
losophy. Under  the  mist  of  this  description  of  reflec- 
tion, giving  the  mind,  in  addition  to  sense-perceptions, 
ideas  of  its  own  operations  thereupon,  the  amiable  au- 
thor was  enabled  to  assume,  from  time  to  time,  the 
exercise  of  the  a  priori  powers  of  mind  which  he  else- 
where so  absolutely  denies.  But  there  remains  his  fatal 
dogma,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  mind  save  what  first 
came  from  the  senses.  And  his  interpreters  of  a  later 
day  have  taken  care  to  clear  away  all  uncertainty,  by 
the  sharpness  of  their  exclusions,  leaving  us  nothing 
but  sensations  and  their  modifications. 

Locke,  having  denied  everything  innate,  attempts  to 
give  us  a  Sensualistic  origin  for  some  of  the  ideas  which 
have  been  most  confidently  believed  to  be  connatural, 
such  as  our  ideas  of  space,  duration,  identity  of  self, 


1 6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

the  ideas  themselves,  which  must  be  the  only  means  of 
acquainting  ourselves  accurately  with  them.  He  should 
then  have  begun  by  the  analysis,  and  inferred  the  origin 
of  our  ideas  from  their  qualities. 

Locke,  having  proposed  first  to  ascertain  the  origin 
of  our  ideas,  begins  by  an  absolute  denial  of  all  innate 
ideas  and  principles  in  the  soul.  If  we  can  understand 
his  reasoning  (Book  I.,  Ch.  I.),  it  appears  to  be  simply 
this:  That  if  we  find  the  mind  furnished  with  natural 
faculties  for  acquiring  its  ideas,  it  is  unreasonable  to 
suppose  that  nature  has  given  us  any  innate  ones.  But 
the  former  is  obviously  true.  And  anyone  who  will  con- 
sult his  common  sense  impartially,  will  convince  himself 
that  the  only  ideas  he  has,  are  those  acquired  by  expe- 
rience in  the  use  of  those  faculties.  We  are  bound, 
then,  to  conclude,  that  previous  to  experience  of  sensa- 
tions, the  mind  is  a  blank,  a  tabula  rasa,  a  surface  sus- 
ceptible of  impressions,  but  absolutely  without  any  char- 
acters inscribed  upon  it.  And  this  conclusion  is  pushed 
so  unsparingly,  as  to  deny  not  only  innate  ideas,  but 
innate  principles  of  cognition. 

This  famous  demonstration  contains  two  glaring 
faults.  The  pious  author  is  misled  by  a  material  illus- 
tration suggesting  a  false  analogy.  The  mind  is  not  a 
tablet,  written  or  unwritten  by  nature;  it  is  an  intelli- 
gent agent.  It  is  not  a  surface,  but  a  spiritual  monad. 
And  second,  Locke  heedlessly  confounds  the  occasion 
of  the  genesis  of  ideas  with  the  cause.  It  may  be  per- 
fectly true,  that  the  intelligence  exerts  none  of  that 
cognitive  power  of  which  its  nature  makes  it  capable, 
and  discloses  none  of  those  ruling  norms  of  thought,  or 
feeling,  or  will,  which  are  originally  constitutive  of  it, 
until  it  is  stimulated  by  sensation.  But  from  this,  it  b)'  no 
means  follows  that  sensation  bestows  those  capacities  and 
laws.  To  state  this  confusion  of  reasoning  is  sufficient 
to  expose  it.  The  question,  whence  the  forms  of  thought 
and  the  ideas  which  seem  to  be  original,  must  be  decided 


Sensuaiistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    17 

by  wholly  another  process  than  Locke's ;  by  faithful 
analysis,  not  by  a  mere  concurrence  of  experiences. 
To  say,  for  instance,  that  the  mind  thinks  of  empty 
space  when  it  has  sense-perception  of  a  body  extended, 
is  far  short  of  proving  that  the  abstract  idea  comes  from 
the  sensation.  It  may  be,  that  it  comes  from  the  mind 
itself  upon  occasion  of  the  sensation.  And  that,  I  repeat, 
is  to  be  proved  or  disproved  by  something  else  than 
mere  synchronism. 

Locke  demies  idea  as  anything  which  is  before  the 
mind  when  it  thinks.  He  traces  the  v/hole  operations 
of  the  mind  to  two  sources,  experience  and  reflection. 
Experience  means,  with  him,  our  objective  experiences 
through  the  senses.  And  the  mind's  reflective  processes 
contain  nothing  except  what  was  first  derived  from 
sensation.  Reflection  is  our  internal  experience.  The 
ideas  which  it  gives  us  are  those  of  the  operations  of 
our  spirits  upon  the  objective  experiences.  Here  we 
have  the  whole  account  of  the  processes  of  our  soul. 
Fortunately  for  Locke's  credit,  the  vagueness  of  his 
own  apprehension  of  the  reflective  processes  saved  him 
from  a  part  of  the  consequences  of  the  Sensuaiistic  phi- 
losophy. Under  the  mist  of  this  description  of  reflec- 
tion, giving  the  mind,  in  addition  to  sense-perceptions, 
ideas  of  its  own  operations  thereupon,  the  amiable  au- 
thor was  enabled  to  assume,  from  time  to  time,  the 
exercise  of  the  a  flrwrt  powers  of  mind  which  he  else- 
where so  absolutely  denies.  But  there  remains  his  fatal 
dogma,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  mind  save  what  first 
came  from  the  senses.  And  his  interpreters  of  a  later 
day  have  taken  care  to  clear  away  all  uncertainty,  by 
the  sharpness  of  their  exclusions,  leaving  us  nothing 
but  sensations  and  their  modifications. 

Locke,  having  denied  everything  innate,  attempts  to 
give  us  a  Sensuaiistic  origin  for  some  of  the  ideas  which 
have  been  most  confidently  believed  to  be  connatural, 
such  as  our  ideas  of  space,  duration,  identity  of  self, 


1 8  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

infinitude,  and  axiomatic,  or  self-evident  truths.  His 
method  throughout  has  the  same  fundamental  error 
of  mistaking  the  occasion  of  a  mental  change  for  the 
cause.  When  do  we  have  the  idea  of  empty  space  ?  he 
asks.  Only  when  we  see  or  feel  two  bodies  separated 
in  space,  or  a  body  occupying  space  by  its  extension. 
Does  not  this  show  that  the  abstract  idea  of  space  is  an 
empirical  one,  as  truly  as  the  idea  of  color  or  figure  ? 
How  is  the  idea  of  duration  generated  ?  Locke  an- 
swers, that  we  get  it  from  the  empirical  note  of  the 
succession  in  our  own  ideas.  One  idea  follows  another ; 
hence  we  derive  the  idea  of  succession,  and  succession 
is  duration  to  us  ;  the  only  notion  of  duration  which  we 
really  have.  For,  he  argues:  only  let  the  succession 
of  ideas  stop,  and  our  perception  of  duration  is  gone. 
Let  a  man  sleep  soundly  ;  the  time  seems  to  him  but  a 
moment,  whether  it  be  an  hour,  a  night,  or  a  year.  If 
all  flux  of  ideas  should  be  arrested  by  virtue  of  the  ex- 
clusive prominency  and  persistency  of  one  idea  before 
the  mind — as  sometimes  happens  in  profound  reverie — 
we  should  take  no  note  of  time.  So,  his  followers  add, 
a  period  of  time  which  is  filled  up  with  a  succession  of 
numerous  and  vivid  ideas,  seems  to  the  mind  a  long 
duration ;  as  when  a  country-youth  first  sees  the  many 
novelties  of  the  city. 

So,  our  conscious  identity  is,  according  to  this  sys- 
tem, but  an  empirical  idea,  deduced  from  the  observed 
sequence  of  two  states  in  consciousness.  As  the  second^ 
state  follows  the  first,  reflection  refers  it  to  the  same 
subject ;  and  thus  is  generated  the  notion  of  our  own 
identity.  So,  likewise,  our  idea  of  the  infinite  is  con- 
founded with  that  of  the  indefinite.  According  to 
Locke,  infinitude  is  an  idea  purely  negative,  implying 
only  the  absence  of  definite  limit.  Hence,  when  we  en- 
deavor to  construe  it,  we  find  ourselves  resorting  to 
the  aid  of  number,  in  order  to  avoid  falling  into  a  com- 
plete confusion  of  mind  ;  and  we  think  of  infinite  space, 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    19 

as  millions  of  leagues  added  to  millions ;  or  of  infinite 
time,  as  millions  of  years  added  to  millions. 

For  such  a  system  as  Locke's,  there  are  no  necessary 
truths,  nor  primitive  judgments.  These  are  the  objects 
of  his  ridicule.  Such  of  them  as  he  does  not  denounce 
as  meaningless  verbal  forms,  he  derives  from  experi- 
ence. It  is  true,  that  in  his  instances  of  necessary  truths, 
he  takes  good  care  to  cite  only  such  as  can  be  most 
easily  made  to  appear  empty  ;  while  he  avoids  all  allu- 
sion to  the  more  evident  and  important  ones.  What 
man,  he  exclaims,  was  ever  helped  to  the  ascertainment 
of  anything  which  he  did  not  know  before,  by  such  max- 
ims as  these  ?  "  That  which  is,  is."  "  Nothing  can  be 
and  not  be  at  the  same  time."  Of  such  primary  judg- 
ments as  these :  "  No  effect  without  a  cause,"  or,  "  no 
means  without  an  intended  end,"  he  says  nothing. 
Those  axioms  which  are  not  empty  truisms,  he  sup- 
poses to  be  learned  by  experience.  For  the  child  does 
not  even  understand  their  enunciation,  much  less  be- 
lieve them  as  necessary  truths,  until  he  has  learned 
their  truth  in  experimental  instances. 

Locke,  like  the  other  leading  Sensualistic  philoso- 
phers, is  a  thorough  Nominalist.  In  this  he  is  obviously 
consistent.  For  if  there  is  nothing  in  reflection,  save 
the  ideas  derived  from  sensation,  since  our  sense-per- 
ceptions are  only  of  individual  objects,  there  is  nothing 
to  which  general  terms  can  answer.  They  are  names, 
and  nothing  more.  General  concepts  are  mere  chimeras 
of  the  reason.  Here  we  may  mention  the  famous  defi- 
nition of  truth  in  our  ideas,  which,  in  the  hands  of 
Berkeley  and  Hume,  led  to  results  so  astounding. 
"  Truth  in  ideas,"  said  Locke,  "  consists  in  their  con- 
formity to  their  objects."  A  moment's  reflection  will 
convince  you,  that  by  this  description  we  get  no  truth 
in  any  idea  of  the  objective  world  whatever.  For 
clearly,  my  idea  of  matter  is  not  like  matter ;  my  sub- 
jective idea  of  a  color  is  not  like  a  color;  my  idea  of 


2O  Sens^calist^c  Philosophy. 

solidity  is  not  itself  solid  ;  my  idea  of  extension  is  not 
actually  extended.  Hence,  Hume  readily  deduced  his 
whole  frightful  conclusion  of  scepticism,  and  Berkeley 
his  system  of  pure  idealism.  But  what  else  could  Locke 
give  us  as  a  definition,  bound  as  he  was  in  the  trammels 
of  his  wretched  sensualism  ?  He  could  not  say,  that 
the  correctness  of  our  ideas  is  determined  by  their  rise 
according  to  the  a  priori  laws  of  the  intelligence;  for 
he  had  begun  by  flouting  all  such  laws.  With  him,  the 
intelligence  has  no  innate  laws;  it  is  a  tabula  rasa;  its 
one  original  property  is  susceptibility  of  impressions. 

Locke's  views  concerning  the  evidence  of  God's  exist- 
ence are  characterized  by  two  traits :  an  utter  repudia- 
tion of  the  a  priori  method  of  Des  Cartes,  and  an  exclu- 
sive reliance  on  the  a  posteriori  and  teleological  method. 
To  the  latter,  there  can,  indeed,  be  no  objection ;  and 
its  value  cannot  be  exaggerated.  .  But  this  is  upon  two 
conditions:  I.  Provided  the  primitive  and  necessary 
judgment  be  granted,  "  no  effect  without  adequate 
cause,"  the  argument  from  the  existing  universe  is 
solid.  But  this  principle  Locke  nowhere  asserts ;  he 
passes  it  by  in  silence.  In  his  philosophy  there  is  no 
room  for  it ;  for  he  denies  all  necessary  first  truths,  and 
recognizes  none  but  those  derived  from  experience. 
2.  This  a  posteriori  argument,  if  it  stand  alone,  will  only 
prove  that  God  is  a  cause  sufficient  to  account  for  the 
effect  He  is  powerful,  indeed,  for  the  effects  are  grand  ; 
He  is  intelligent,  for  the  effects  are  full  of  skill;  He  is 
truly  an  Artifex  mundi,  a  world-maker,  a  grand  mechanic. 
Perhaps,  also,  since  the  effects  are  limited,  confused,  and 
imperfect  as  far  a§  known  to  man,  may  the  First  Cause 
be  limited  and  imperfect?  To  this  question  the  philoso- 
phy of  Locke  gives  no  answer.  For  it  has  no  place  for 
the  necessary  truths  of  the  reason,  that  the  contingent 
must  imply  the  uncaused,  the  finite  must  imply  the  in- 
finite, and  the  imperfect  must  imply  the  perfect.  Let 
us  admit  these  intuitions  of  the  reason  and  conscience ; 


Sensualis tic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    21 

and  we  have,  indeed,  what  St.  Paul  would  show  us  in 
his  natural  theology,  a  Being  of  "  eternal  power  and 
godhead."  But  in  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  these 
necessary  truths  are  ignored.  Again,  we  have  seen  that 
until  we  find  a  God  infinite  in  being,  duration,  and  holi- 
ness, we  have  no  true  object  of  rational  worship,  but 
only  a  Demiurgus.  But,  says  Locke,  our  only  idea  of 
the  infinite  is  a  negation !  He  knows  no  other  concep- 
tion of  infinitude  than  the  indefinite.  Hence,  the  Di- 
vine Being,  in  becoming  a  suitable  object  of  worship, 
must  become  a  negation,  an  unknowable  entity.  Here 
we  have  the  conclusion,  which  re-appears  in  the  Sen- 
sualistic philosophy,  from  Hobbes  to  Herbert  Spencer. 
In  Book  IV.,  Ch.  iii.,  Sec.  6,  Locke  carries  the  Sen- 
sualistic philosophy  to  another  of  its  results;  the  denial, 
or,  at  least,  the  doubt  of  the  spirituality  of  man's  soul. 
We  cannot  know,  he  asserts,  without  revelation,  b}*  the 
contemplation  of  our  own  ideas,  whether  that  which 
thinks  in  us  is  incorporeal  or  not.  For,  so  far  as  our 
own  reflective  acts  inform  us,  it  may  be  possible  that  a 
certain  mass  of  material  particles  aggregated  in  a  given 
way,  may  become  capable  both  of  thought  and  feeling. 
Now,  I  assert,  that  if  this  be  so,  it  will  be  most  philo- 
sophic to  believe  that  the  something  which  thinks  in 
us  is  an  organism  of  material  particles.  For  why  postu- 
late more  than  is  requisite  to  account  for  all  effects? 
Again,  if  the  something  which  thinks  is  an  organized 
body,  then  every  instance  of  the  destiny  of  organized 
things  known  in  our  experience  would  incline  us,  by 
analogy,  to  think  that  our  souls  will  perish ;  for  do  we 
not  see  all  other  organisms  perish  ?  Nor  can  we  be 
very  sure  that  revelation  designs  to  teach  us  the  true 
immateriality  of  our  souls ;  if  our  own  consciousness 
does  not  forbid  our  ascribing  all  spiritual  functions  to 
some  species  of  matter.  For  when  the  Bible  tells  us 
that  our  souls  are  spiritus,  irvevfij,  -):p,  what  guarantee 
have  we  that  it  may  not  design  we  shall  understand 


22  Sensnalistic  Philosophy. 

that  this  refined  substance  within  us  which  thinks,  is 
still  as  material  as. the  atmosphere  which  our  lungs 
exhale?  Thus,  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  betrays  us 
again  to  the  materialists.  When  we  shall  prove,  what 
we  now  assert,  that  our  rational  consciousness  does 
absolutely  forbid  us  to  ascribe  spiritual  functions  to  any 
form  of  matter,  the  importance  of  the  doctrine  will  be 
obvious  to  every  religious  reader. 

It  only  remains  for  us  to  notice  Locke's  moral  theory. 
We  anticipate  at  once  a  doctrine  unworthy  of  this  de- 
partment of  our  souls'  operations,  from  the  exceeding 
brevity  of  the  space  which  the  author  devotes  to  the 
subject.  And  a  moment's  thought  prepares  us  to  find 
that  a  Sensualistic  philosophy  cannot  admit  a  correct 
theory  of  morals.  Virtue  and  vice  are  not  sensible 
qualities ;  we  do  not  discriminate  them  by  touch,  smell, 
the  palate,  the  eyes,  or  the  ears.  The  experience  we 
derive  through  our  senses  cannot  lead  to  the  genera- 
tion of  the  distinction,  because  the  knowledge  of  it 
must  pre-exist,  in  order  to  our  judging  the  actions  we 
witness,  as  to  their  moral  quality.  But  the  experience 
of  sense-impressions  can  tell  us  that  some  actions  are 
followed  by  pleasure,  and  others  by  pain.  Our  self- 
interest  in  that  which  is  pleasant  or  painful :  there  you 
have  the  production,  and  the  only  production  of  the 
reflective  process  acting  upon  our  sensible  experiences. 
There  is  all  the  basis,  which  these  philosophers  have, 
on  which  to  construct  a  theory  of  morals.  One  can 
scarcely  see  a  more  impressive  proof  of  the  wretchedly 
vicious  nature  of  their  principles,  than  when  he  finds 
the  amiable  and  devout  Locke  impelled  by  their  rigor 
to  identify  natural  and  moral  good,  and  to  resolve  the 
moral  motive  into  self-interest.  General  good  and  evil 
are  again  and  again  defined  by  him  as  those  things 
which  are  suited  to  produce  in  us  pleasure  or  pain. 
Hear  him  proceed,  Book  II,  Ch.  xxvii.,  Sec.  5  :  "  Good 
and  evil,  morally  considered,  are  nothing  else  than  the 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    23 

conformity  or  opposition  which  is  found  between  our 
actions  and  a  certain  law;  a  conformity  and  opposition 
which  attracts  us  to  the  good  and  deters  us  from  -the 
evil,  by  the  will  and  power  of  the  lawgiver.  And  this 
good  and  this  evil  are  nothing  else  than  the  pleasure 
and  the  pain  which,  by  the  determination  of  the  law- 
giver, accompany  the  observance  or  the  violation  of  the 
law.  And  this  is  what  we  call  reward  and  punishment." 
Virtue,  then,  is  obedience  to  a  law.  And  the  motive 
of  that  obedience  is  self-interest,  stimulated  by  a  fear  of 
penalty  and  a  hope  of  advantage.  By  this  analysis,  a 
real  morality  disappears  as  completely  as  in  the  alem- 
bick  of  Hobbes.  The  only  difference  which  appears 
between  the  will  of  the  lawgiver  and  the  will  of  the 
transgressor  is  this:  that  the  lawgiver  is  able  to  impose 
his  penalty  on  the  sinner.  It  will  be  impossible  on  this 
ground  to  prove  that  it  is  wrong  to  obey  a  law  enjoin- 
ing \\icked  actions,  provided  the  wicked  lawgiver  is 
able  to  enforce  a  sufficient  penalty.  For  the  moment 
Locke  resorts  to  any  other  element  to  discriminate  be- 
tween the  just  and  the  unjust  law,  he  surrenders  his 
principle;  the  h priori  distinction  between  things  right 
and  wrong  in  themselves,  not  in  their  pleasant  or  un- 
pleasant consequences  only,  unavoidably  comes  in.  Or 
will  those  who  think  with  Locke  say,  that  the  law  which 
obligates  is  only  the  divine  law,  and  such  human  laws 
as  coincide  therewith  ?  This  is  true  ;  but  why  true  ? 
Only  because  God  is  able  to  override  all  advantage 
or  loss  derived  from  created  lawgivers  by  His  larger 
rewards  or  penalties?  Then  it  is  God's  might  which 
makes  His  right.  There  is  but  one  other  answer  to  the 
question,  Why  does 'God's  law  always  obligate  ?  That 
is  :  because  it  is  infallibly  righteous.  But  the  moment 
you  assign  this  other  reason,  you  inevitably  introduce 
the  primary  moral  distinction  as  wholly  another  than, 
and  superior  to,  the  distinction  between  natural  advan- 
tage and  los?. 


24  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

The  havoc  which  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  makes 
in  the  foundations  of  ethics,  presents  one  of  the  most 
crushing"  refutations.  It  is  my  purpose  to  employ  this 
line  of  opposition  to  the  full;  and  hence  this  attempt  to 
familiarize  the  reader's  mind  to  it. 

§  3.  The  philosophy  of  Hobbes,  as  partially  revived 
by  Locke,  won  many  followers  in  England  in  the  eight- 
eenth century.  In  the  hands  of  Hume,  of  Berkeley, 
and  of  Hartley,  it  bore  very  contradictory  yet  legiti- 
mate fruits.  But  the  healthy  sobriety  of  the  British 
mind,  derived  chiefly  from  the  general  influence  of  the 
Bible,  prevented  this  philosophy  from  gaining  a  full 
sway  in  its  native  home.  Its  history  reminds  us  of 
some  of  the  plants  of  other  continents  transplanted  to 
Europe,  which  flourished  far  more  in  the  foreign  than 
in  their  native  soils.  It  was  when  transplanted  to 
France,  that  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  disclosed  its 
real  powers  of  mischief.  It  found  there  a  congenial  soil, 
in  a  population  restless,  pleasure-loving,  acute,  and  un- 
controlled by  any  practical  Christianity,  ignorant  of  an 
enlightened  Protestantism,  and  freed  from  the  shackles 
of  an  effete  Romanism.  Here  the  daemon  found  for 
itself  a  "house  swept  and  garnished."  The  real  agent 
for  naturalizing  the  ideas  of  Hobbes  and  Locke  in 
revolutionary  France  was  the  Abbe  de  Condillac  (whose 
philosophic  works  appeared  from  1746-1777).  The  pre- 
cision and  neatness  of  his  style,  the  apparent  simplicity 
of  his  system,  and  the  quiet  boldness  of  his  dogmatism, 
fitted  him  for  pleasing  a  superficial  and  sensual  age. 
Cousin  ascribes,  indeed,  to  Voltaire  the  place  of  a  fore- 
runner, who  prepared  the  way  for  Condillac.  When  the 
former  visited  England,  he  found  the  philosophy  of 
Locke  in  full  credit,  and  he  adopted  its  principles  with 
enthusiasm.  Voltaire  was  a  literary  man,  rather  than  a 
philosopher.  But  while  utterly  devoid  of  both  the 
power  and  the  patience  necessary  for  correct  analysis, 
he  was  master,  to  a  transcendent  degree,  of  the  arts  of 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    25 

illustration,  of  persiflage,  and  of  satire.     These  he  em-   £y 
ployed  not  only  to  assail  Christianity,  but  to  disparage 
the  philosophy  of  Des  Cartes  and  Leibnitz ;  and  thus  he 
prepared  an  open  field  for  the  Sensualistic  philosophy. 

The  title  of  Condillac  s  first  work,  "  Treatise  on  the 
Origin  of  Human  Knowledge,"  and  every  character- 
istic of  his  method,  betray  his  indebtedness  to  Locke. 
His  whole  work  is  to  push  Locke's  principles  to  their 
extreme  results ;  which  is  begun  in  the  earlier  publica- 
tion just  mentioned,  and  completed  in  his  "  Treatise  of 
the  Sensations,"  eight  years  later.  Like  Locke,  he  be- 
gins by  the  vicious  method  of  seeking  "  the  origin  of  our 
ideas,"  instead  of  observing  their  traits  and  conditions. 
Bolder  than  Locke,  he  announces  it  as  his  purpose  to 
show  that  every  process  of  the  soul  is  reducible  to  a 
single  principle,  and  that  is  sensation.  The  simplification 
which  seems  to  be  promised  by  this  result  is  seductive 
to  the  superficial  thinker;  but  such  a  design  cannot 
but  make  havoc  of  the  modest  and  humble  rules  of 
true,  inductive  science.  With  Condtllac,  all  the  faculties, 
including  what  Locke  distinguished  as  faculties  of 
reflection,  are  generated  by  experience,  from  the  one 
faculty  of  sensation,  the  only  real  power  of  the  human 
soul.  Thus  Condillac  precludes  himself  from  those  whole- 
some, though  inconsistent,  returns  to  rational  views  of 
the  a  priori  powers  of  the  soul,  which  Locke  gains 
through  the  vagueness  of  his  definition  of  the  reflective 
acts.  With  Condillac,  the  favorite  phrase  is  to  call  every 
operation  of  mind  "a  transformed  sensation."  Reflec- 
tion itself  is  a  transformed  sensation — attention,  mem- 
ory, comparison,  judgments,  desires,  volitions — all  are 
but  transformed  sensations. 

In  order  to  carry  out  his  project  of  ascertaining  first 
the  origin  of  our  ideas,  Condillac  tells  us  that  we  must 
ascertain  how  the  human  being  acquires  his  first  ideas. 
But  this  first  acquisition  is  made  in  infancy ;  and  neither 
can  we  remember  our  own  infantile  experiences,  nor 


26  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

can  an  infant  portray  his  to  us.  Hence,  says  Condillac, 
it  will  be  unavoidable,  that  we  shall  make  suppositions 
as  to  how  the  first  ideas  are  acquired.  Such  is  the  pre- 
posterous foundation  of  the  whole  superstructure!  He 
does,  indeed,  say  that  the  consistency  of  this  hypothe- 
sis concerning  the  unknown  generation  of  our  infantile 
faculties,  with  their  adult  operations,  will  be  a  guaran- 
tee that  he  surmises  aright.  But  I  reply,  What  guaran- 
tee have  we  that  he  does  not  misinterpret  our  adult 
experiences,  at  the  imperious  demands  of  a  pre-con- 
ceived  hypothesis  ? 

His  definition  of  perception  is,  "  the  impression  oc- 
casioned in  the  soul  by  the  action  of  the  senses."  Con- 
sciousness is  "the  feeling  which  a  perception  gives  the 
soul  of  its  presence  in  it."  That  is  to  say :  perception 
is  the  soul's  feeling  of  a  sensible  impression  from  with- 
but,  and  consciousness  is  simply  the  soul's  feeling  that 
it  feels.  The  reader  must  be  careful  to  apprehend  how, 
by  these  definitions,  Condillac  obliterates  at  once,  and 
forever,  those  distinctions  between  the  soul's  acts  of  in- 
telligence and  of  feeling,  of  understanding  and  of  sus- 
ceptibility, and  conation,  which,  in  sound  philosophy, 
are  so  important,  and  in  common  sense,  are  intuitively 
recognized.  Intellect  itself  is,  with  him,  a  susceptibility, 
no  more  :  perception  is  a  sense-impression,  no  more. 
All  other  processes,  whether  intellectual,  emotional,  or 
voluntary,  are  but  "transformed  sensations."  Thus  the 
impassable  chasm,  which  forbids  the  reduction  of  the 
intellectual  and  active  powers  to  the  same  element,  is 
sought  to  be  evaded  b}^  an  arbitrary  definition.  But  to 
proceed. 

If  the  mind  has  but  one  sensation  ;  or  if  one  among 
several  is  made  dominant  by  its  own  vividness,  so  that 
the  others  fade  out,  the  mind  is  monopolized  by  it. 
This  state  we  term  attention.  Thus,  a  sensation  is  at- 
tention,  whenever  it  is  exclusively  vivid. 

The  susceptibility  to  be  impressed  by  sense  may  be 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    2  7 

divided  between  a  present  and  a  past  sensation.  "  These 
we  perceive  both  at  the  same  time  :  to  perceive,  and  to 
feel  the  two  sensations  is  the  same  thing."  This  per- 
ception (or  feeling)  of  the  sensation  which  we  had,  in 
the  past,  is  memory.  Thus,  as  soon  as  a  sensation  be- 
longs to  the  past,  it  is  memory.  So  that  memory  also 
is  "  transformed  sensation."  "As  soon  as  there  is  double 
attention,  there  is  comparison  ;  for  to  be  attentive  to  two 
ideas  and  to  compare  them,  is  the  same  thing."  But 
since  attention  is  but  sensation  dominant,  and  com- 
parison also  is  twin  sensation,  so,  to  perceive  (or  feel)  a 
relation  of  difference  or  resemblance  between  two  sen- 
sations is  but  to-  attend  to  the  two  together.  Thus 
judgment  arises,  and  the  forming  of  propositions  by 
the  mind.  Comparison  and  judgment,  then,  are  but 
"  transformed  sensations." 

We  are  often  obliged  to  carry  our  attention  from  one 
object  upon  another,  in  considering  their  qualities 
separately.  The  attention  thus  directed  is  like  light 
which  reflects  from  one  surface  to  another  so  as  to 
illuminate  both  :  and  Condillac  calls  this  "  reflection." 
Thus  reflection  is  also  "transformed  sensation." 

Abstraction  is  nothing  but  the  attention  directed 
upon  one  quality  of  an  object  instead  of  attaching  itself 
to  all  the  qualities  together.  Reasoning  is  nothing  but 
a  double  judgment,  or  one  judgment,  within  another. 
Imagination  is  only  reflection  combining  images.  So 
that  abstraction,  reasoning,  and  imagination  also  are 
but  "  transformed  sensation." 

After  this  series  of  analytic  juggleries,  Condillac  re- 
proaches Locke  with  not  having  carried  his  own  system 
to  its  proper  results.  That  philosopher,  he  complains, 
seemed  to  leave  us  under  the  belief  that  all  these  were, 
like  the  powers  of  sense,  innate  faculties.  Whereas  he 
should  have  discovered  the  principle  of  their  genera- 
tion, and  shown  them  to  be  only  acquired  habitudes  of 
the  mind. 


28  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

The  intelligent  reader  will  have  perceived,  already, 
an  initial,  and  an  insuperable  difficulty  at  the  founda- 
tion of  Condillacs  system.  If  all  mental  functions  are 
"  transformed  sensations,"  and  sensation  is  feeling,  then 
feeling  is  the  one  original  power  of  man's  soul.  But 
how  is  a  system  of  cognitions  to  be  built  upon  an  exclu- 
sive foundation  of  feeling?  Feeling  is  not  idea.  It  is 
related  to  thought,  as  caloric  is  to  light.  It  is  a  func- 
tion of  susceptibility,  while  thought  is  a  function  of  in- 
telligence. Where,  upon  Condillacs  system,  does  idea 
come  in?  His  answer  to  this  question  is:  that  sensa- 
tion, by  relation  to  the  soul  which  it  modifies,  is  a  feel- 
ing ;  by  the  relation  which  it  bears  to  the  external 
object,  it  is  an  idea.  This,  the  only  answer  possible 
for  him,  on  his  principle,  is  no  answer  at  all.  Let  any 
man  consult  his  own  consciousness,  and  he  will  see 
that  while  an  idea  stimulates  feeling,  the  one  is  not 
transformable  into  the  other.  As  in  the  analysis  of  a 
solar  ray,  heat  attends  the  spectrum ;  but  the  heat  with- 
out the  light  could  never  give  us  the  prismatic  colors. 
Intelligence  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  feeling  itself. 
The  mind  must  see,  in  order  to  be  impressed  ;  unless  it 
is  an  unintelligent,  compound  organ.  Here  may  be 
seen  the  amazing  omission  of  Condillacs  scheme  ;  he 
leaves  out  that  rational  consciousness  which  is  essential 
in  order  to  sense-perception.  How  does  mere  impres- 
sion from  without  result  in  cognition  ?  Only  as  it  is 
realized  in  our  consciousness.  That  which  makes  all 
the  difference  between  impression  and  perception,  is 
the  intelligent  Ego:  if  the  subject  of  the  sensation  has 
not  seen  it  in  his  rational  consciousness,  it  has  not  been 
sensation.;  but  a  mere  organic  vibration,  a  function 
simply  animal,  and  unintelligent.  Condillacs  analysis 
gives  us  the  occasion  of  ideas,  in  the  external  impression  : 
•it  leaves  the  cause  totally  out  of  the  question  :  it  gives 
us  the  condition,  but  takes  away  the  foundation  of  cog- 
nition. And  here  may  be  repeated  the  objection  made 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previoiis  Century.    29 

against  the  scheme  of  Locke  :  Condillacs  whole  theory 
depends  upon  a  gross  confusion  of  occasion  with  cause. 
It  is  perfectly  true,  that  there  is  neither  cognition,  feel- 
ing, nor  volition,  until  some  object  is  presented  to  the 
mind,  upon  which  it  may  direct  its  powers  of  intellec- 
tion or  activity.  But  this  is  wholly  another  thing  from 
proving  that  the  object  generates  any  of  these  faculties 
or  their  actions.  And  a  correct  inspection  will  show 
us  that  the  latter  statement  is  not  only  without  proof, 
but  positively  untrue. 

Thus  :  according  to  Condillac,  attention  is  but  domi- 
nant sensation.  This  is  an  account  of  the  matter  essen- 
tially incorrect,  in  that  it  omits  the  Ego,  the  subject 
which  attends.  Let  us  inspect  the  various  instances  in 
which  we  exercise  attention,  and  we  shall  see  that  we 
are  able  to  give  it  to  the  one  of  several  impressions 
which  is  not  dominant :  we  can  withhold  our  attention 
from  the  obstrusive  sensation,  to  bestow  it  on  the  faint 
and  obscure  one.  Yea,  we  can  withdraw  it  from  all 
sensations,  to  bestow  it  upon  abstract  conceptions.  The 
will  obviously  comes  into  play  here  :  the  Ego  is  at  once 
seen  to  be  the  essential  factor,  the  objective  impression 
the  mere  condition.  Exertion  of  will  is  in  order  to 
attention,  and  therefore  not  the  consequence  of  it. 
The  brightening  of  the  idea  attended  to,  until  it  rises 
into  dominancy,  is  the  effect,  and  therefore  not  the 
cause  of  our  volition.  So,  it  is  equally  shallow  to  say 
that  comparison  is  but  a  dual  attention.  Attention  to 
two  ideas  is  indeed  the  condition  of  comparison  ;  no 
more.  The  relation  of  equality,  difference,  or  the  like, 
is  a  new  idea  not  reducible  to  the  idea  of  either  of  the 
objects  of  the  dual  attention  ;  not  seen  in,  but  between 
them. 

Condillac  divides  ideas  into  two  classes,  sensible  and 
intellectual.  The  only  difference  which  he  makes  be- 
tween the  two  is,  that  the  sensible  idea  represents  an 
object  which  is  actually  operating  upon  our  senses :  the 


30  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

intellectual  represents  objects  which  once  operated  and 
have  now  disappeared  from  before  the  senses.  If  every- 
thing in  the  mind  is  transformed  sensation,  this  is  of 
course  the  only  distinction  possible.  But  the  distinc- 
tion is  obviously  false.  We  have  an  intellectual  idea 
of  empty  space,  of  abstract  duration,  of  cause,  of  spirit 
as  that  which  thinks,  of  God,  of  infinitude.  Have  either 
of  these  ever  acted  upon  our  senses  ?  Something 
phenomenal  may  have  been  the  condition  of  the  rise 
of  these  ideas  ;  but  it  is  impossible  that  it  should  have 
been  the  source.  This  source  must  be  sought,  then,  in 
the  reason  itself. 

If  sensation  is  but  impression  relatively  to  the  mind 
itself,  and  idea  only  as  it  is  related  to  the  object,  then, 
of  course,  Locke's  definition  of  truth  in  our  ideas  must 
be  adopted  in  its  fullest  sense.  Truth  can  only  be  the 
conformity  of  our  ideas  to  their  objects.  The  repre- 
sentative theory  of  perception  must  be  held  in  its 
baldest  form,  with  all  the  absurd  consequences  fixed 
upon  it  by  Dr.  Reid.  And  it  is  equally  clear,  that  the 
sceptical  result  which  Hume  drew  from  that  definition, 
must  follow  in  the  most  rigid  form.  For  between  an 
object  and  the  feeling  with  which  it  may  impress  us, 
there  is  obviously  no  relation  of  identity.  The  mind 
has  no  more  real  cognition  of  the  true  nature  and  form 
of  the  thing  which  impresses  it,  if  sensation  is  relatively 
to  the  mind  only  impression,  than  an  animal  in  the  pitch- 
dark  which  is  hurt  by  a  blow  knows  thereby  the  form 
of  the  being  who  struck  it.  It  only  knows  that  it  is 
hurt.  Our  perceptive  ideas  must  be  merely  relative  to 
our  subjective  law  of  feeling.  We  are  rigidly  confined 
within  the  charmed  circle  of  our  o»m  spirits,  and  can 
never  know  that  there  is  any  correspondence  between 
our  ideas  and  objective  realities. 

When  Condillac  proceeds  to  deal  with  our  abstract 
ideas,  he  follows  closely  the  false  analysis  of  Locke ;  as 
indeed  his  reduction  of  everything  to  "  transformed 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.   3 1 

sensations  "  necessitates.  With  him  our  idea  of  space 
is  nothing  but  that  of  an  object  extended.  Our  idea  of 
substance  is  nothing  but  that  of  an  aggregate  of  per- 
ceptible qualities.  Our  idea  of  duration  is  only  a  mod- 
ification of  our  experience  of  succession.  The  infinite 
is  only  the  undefined.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this 
chapter  to  give  the  detailed  refutation  of  these  state- 
ments/ But  in  order  to  put  in  a  caveat  against  their 
acceptance,  we  beg  the  reader  to  consider,  in  passing, 
this  result.  If  anything  is  certain  in  our  consciousness, 
it  is  certain  that  we  can  only  think  properties  as  refer- 
red to  a  substance  whose  properties  they  are.  Condillac 
ridicules  the  attempt  to  form  an  idea  of  "  being  in 
itself;"  being,  separated  from  all  perceivable  proper- 
ties :  and  his  ridicule  is  just.  We  only  know  substance 
through  some  properties  belonging  to  it.  And  it  is 
equally  certain,  that  we  only  know  properties  as  refer- 
red to  some  substance  in  which  they  inhere.  "  Property 
in  itself"  would  be  as  impossible  an  idea  as  "  Being  in 
itself."  Thus,  if  we  have  no  other  idea  of  substance  than 
merely  an  aggregate  of  properties,  our  cognition  is  re- 
duced to  a  zero,  and  the  result  is  an  absolute  nihilism.  If 
there  is  no  valid  idea  of  substance,  other  than  of  an  aggre- 
gate of  properties,  then  our  conscious  spirits  are  nothing 
except  a  series  of  successive  ideas  and  feelings:  and 
after  these  are  reduced  to  naught,  spirit  itself  vanishes  ! 
Thought  and  thinker  both  disappear  together  in  the 
abyss  of  Nothing. 

Condillac,  like  Locke,  as  we  might  expect,  advocates 
the  most  extreme  Nominalism.  Deductive  reasoning 
he  declares  to  be  nothing  but  the  equating  of  indentical 
propositions.  In  his  view,  every  process  of  deduction 
is  precisely  like  the  algebraic  equation,  in  which  one 
thing  is  set  equal  to  another,  and  that  again  to  another, 
until  a  solution  is  reached.  He  is  also  famous  for  the 
maxim,  that  "A  science  is  only  a  language  well  con- 
structed." These  points  are  only  mentioned  now,  in 


32  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

order  that  they  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  erroneous 
theory  of  the  syllogism  advanced  by  Locke  and  his  fol- 
lowers, when  we  proceed  to  the  more  thorough  testing 
of  the  principles  of  this  philosophy. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  inquire  what  account  Condillac 
gives  of  our  moral  states  and  acts.  As  he  generated 
all  the  faculties  of  the  understanding  from  simple  sensa 
tion,  he  gives  us  the  same  source  for  all  the  faculties 
of  the  will.  Every  sensation,  says  he,  is  more  or  less 
agreeable  or  unpleasant  in  itself;  for  it  is  a  contradic- 
tion to  speak  of  feeling  which  is  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other,  and  sensation  is  feeling.  Now  when  present 
sensations  give  us  feelings  positively  painful,  or  less 
pleasant  than  our  previous  ones,  we  cannot  but  compare 
the  two  states  as  to  their  relative  pleasure.  But  Con- 
dillac  thinks  he  has  shown  that  comparison  and  judg- 
ment are  but  "  transformed  sensation."  The  rise  in 
memory  of  the  conception  of  the  object  which,  experi- 
ence tells  us,  could  give  us  the  increment  of  pleasure, 
is  also  a  transformed  sensation.  Now  the  judgment, 
which  connects  the  pleasure  with  that  object,  is  de- 
sire. What  is  it  we  do,  when  we  desire?  says  he;  we 
only  judge  a  pleasure  connected  with  a  certain  object. 
From  this  desire  modified,  he  generates,  also,  passions, 
as  love,  hatred,  hope,  fear,  joy,  will.  All  these  then  are 
but  "  transformed  sensations."  A  passion  is  but  a  desire 
which  excludes  all  other  desires  for  the  time,  or  is,  at 
least,  dominant  over  them.  Volition  itself  is  but  "an 
absolute  desire,  and  such  that  we  think  the  desired  ob- 
ject in  our  power.  The  words  '  I  will,'  mean,  I  desire, 
and  nothing  can  oppose  itself  to  this  my  desire  ;  all 
must  concur  with  it."  . 

This  is  the  passive  theory  of  Hobbes,  in  all  except 
the  names.  Desire  is  but  sensation  transmuted,  or  re- 
flected back,  and  drawing  us  towards  the  object  whence 
the  sensitive  impression  came.  Condillac  ought  to  have 
inferred  from  this  view,  as  Hobbes  does,  that  the  soul 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.  33 

has  no  real  freedom.  For  obviously,  it  does  not  exert  that 
determining"  freedom  as  to  how  objects  without  shall 
impress  it.  But  if  desire  is  but  this  impression  trans- 
formed, and  if  strong  desire,  with  opportunity,  is  all  of 
volition,  then,  clearly,  I  am  no  more  a  free  agent  in 
choosing  an  object,  than  I  was  in  having  the  sense- 
impression  happen  to  me,  by  the  befalling  of  the  out- 
ward object  before  me.  Atalanta's  free-agency  had  no 
more  to  do  with  her  deciding  to  stop  and  pick  up  the 
golden  apples,  than  it  had  to  do  with  the  fall  of  them  in 
her  path.  So  far  as  her  choice  entered,  the  one  was  as 
much  fated  as  the  other.  But  without  true  free-agency, 
responsibility  is  at  an  end.  What  room  remains  for  a 
true  moral  system,  on  any  plan  whatever,  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  see.  It  is  true  that  in  an  appendix  to  his 
"  Treatise  of  Sensations,"  the  author  tardily  and  incon- 
sistently asserts  the  liberty  of  the  soul.  Experience, 
says  he,  teaches  the  sentient  being  to  curb  its  desires, 
by  the  acquaintance  which  it  has  gained  of  the  painful 
consequences  of  indulging  some  desires.  This  remem- 
bered experience  appears  in  the  problem,  in  the  form 
of  deliberation.  The  soul  learns  experimentally  that 
this  deliberation  can  and  does  cause  the  mischievous 
desire  to  subside,  which  otherwise  was  about  to  become 
volition  by  growing  into  denominancy.  When  this 
lesson  is  empirically  learned,  self-government  begins, 
and  the  being  is  then  a  rational  free  agent.  Our  notion 
of power  is  nothing  but  a  combination  of  these  two  empiri- 
cal ideas  :  first,  that  one  may  not  do  a  thing  (to  which  de- 
sire inclines  him),  second,  that  he  still  has  the  necessary 
faculties  to  do  it.  The  consciousness  of  these  two  facts 
is  our  notion  of  power:  as  soon  as  the  mind  appre- 
hends it,  it  knows  itself  free.  "  Liberty  consists,  then, 
in  determinations,  which,  while  they  always  recognize 
our  dependence  by  some  part  upon  the  operation  of 
objects  upon  us,  are  the  result  of  deliberations  which 
we  have  made,  or  have  had  the  power  of  making." 
3 


34  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Such  is  the  abortive  and  inconsistent  scheme  by  which 
the  author,  after  closing  his  work,  seeks  to  retract  the 
fatalistic  consequences  inevitable  in  it. 

The  objection  to  the  whole  scheme  is,  that  it  again 
confounds  a  condition  of  free  volitions  with  their  effi- 
cient. In  the  obstinate  and  blind  resolve  to  generate 
everything  in  man's  soul  out  of  simple  sensation,  the 
analyst  practically  leaves  out  the  soul  itself.  He  forgets 
this  prime  factor  in  the  function  ;  the  personal  spirit, 
the  Ego,  with  its  original,  innate  spontaneity  and  the 
innate  laws  regulative  thereof.  Objective  impression  is 
indeed  the  occasion  upon  which  spontaneity  asserts 
itself  in  volition.  That  the  objective  impression  is  no 
more,  is  proved  by  the  testimony  of  every  man's  con- 
sciousness: for  who  does  not  know  that  he  often  curbs 
and  repells  those  impressions?  It  is  proved  by  the 
fact  that  the  same  object  is  often  no  motive  to  volition 
whatever,  with  one  man,  while  it  unfailingly  occasions 
it  in  another.  How  is  it  that  like  causes  do  not  pro- 
duce like  effects?  The  utter  emptiness  of  Condillacs 
theory  of  volition  is  also  shown  by  this  remark :  It 
wholly  leaves  out  original  dispositions ;  indeed  it  has  no 
place  for  them.  But  these  are  main  elements  of  the 
problem,  because  they  are  the  chief  features  of  it,  needing 
to  be  accounted  for  upon  his  scheme  ;  and  they  have 
more  than  all  else  to  do  with  every  case  of  volition,  as 
its  regulative  cause.  Take  Condillacs  statement  in  its 
simplest  and  most  rudimental  form  ;  all  impressions 
are  either  painful  or  pleasurable.  How  comes  a  given 
impression  to  be  the  one,  rather  than  the  other?  No- 
toriously, some  objects  are  painful  to  some  beings, 
which  are  pleasurable  to  others.  There  is  obviously  a 
law  of  disposition,  which  determines,  a  priori,  whether  a 
given  objective  impression  shall  be  attractive  and  repul- 
sive. Since  this  law  must  preexist  in  order  to  any  in- 
stance of  attraction  or  repulsion,  it  is  impossible  that  it 
can  have  been  generated  by  attractions  and  repulsions. 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  o]^  Prci'ious  Century.  35 


In  that  la2U  is  the  spring  of  subjective  desires  ;  activities  of 
soul  for  which  the  Sensualistic  theory  has  no  room, 
which  yet  every  man's  consciousness  reveals  to  him  as 
the  very  key  of  all  his  outward  actions.  In  a  word, 
Condillac,  like  Hobbes,  has  overlooked  the  all-impor- 
tant distinction  between  sensibility  and  conation  :  two 
constitutive  and  original  powers  of  the  soul,  neither  of 
which  can  be  transmuted  into  the  other. 

Upon  his  theory  of  the  process  of  deliberation,  we 
make  here  the  following  obvious  remarks.  Since  it  is 
the  remembered  experience  of  the  pain  incurred  by  in- 
dulging a  given  desire,  which  makes  the  counterpoise, 
deliberation  is  but  the  attraction  of  desire  against 
desire  ;  no  other  principle  can  be  consistently  admitted 
by  Condillac.  So  that  we  are  virtually  back  at  the  solu- 
tion of  Hobbes,  who  regarded  deliberation  as  the  libra- 
tion  or  see-sawing  of  two  objective  impressions  com- 
peting to  impose  themselves  on  the  soul.  Where  is 
the  liberty,  on  this  scheme?  The  soul,  like  the  child's 
see-saw,  is  only  victim,  not  agent.  Next:  there  is  no 
essential  difference  in  this  scheme,  between  the  deliber- 
ation of  a  man,  and  the  hesitancy  of  a  beast.  In  each 
case,  we  have  one  impression  against  another  impres- 
sion, actual  or  remembered.  The  only  difference  is  the 
non-essential  one,  that  the  human  animal,  having  more 
memory  and  intelligence,  is  more  liable  to  the  process 
than  the  more  impulsive  and  unintelligent  brute.  Last  : 
this  theory  of  volition  leaves  out  the  moral  motive  as 
effectually  as  Hobbes'.  We  have  here  a  balancing  of 
natural  advantages,  but  no  higher  standard  of  obliga- 
tion or  rectitude. 

But  what,  according  to  Condillac,  is  rectitude?  His 
"  Treatise  of  Sensations  "  knows  no  other  good  or  evil 
than  the  natural.  Hence  it  must  follow  logically,  that 
there  is  no  other  rational  motive  for  man  than  self- 
interest,  and  no  other  rational  end  than  pleasure.  The 
author  himself  avows  another  consequence  ;  that  good 


36  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

and  evil  are  not  permanent  distinctions,  but  are  only 
relative  to  the  sensibility  of  the  individual.  There  is 
left  here  no  basis  whatever  for  a  system  of  obligation 
and  duty.  It  is  true  that  Condillac,  in  a  note,  says  :  "  The 
above  propositions  apply  only  to  the  distinctions  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  which  a  man  would  derive  from 
the  experience  of  his  own  sensibilities,  while  solitary. 
When  brought  into  society,  he  would  find  that  '  all 
which  he  has  called  good  will  not  be  morally  good.' ' 
Is  the  moral  distinction  then  generated  by  the  will  of 
society  ?  So  it  would  seem,  on  his  theory.  But  who 
are  the  integers  who  compose  society?  Only  human 
beings  similar  to  this  solitary  integer,  who  knew  no 
other  good  or  evil  than  his  own  selfish  pleasures  or 
pains,  and  liable  to  the  same  errors  as  to  the  morally 
good,  with  him.  Obviously  we  have  here  no  genesis 
for  a  true  moral  idea  ;  we  have  a  mere  generalization 
of  the  idea  of  self-advantage.  Condillac  cannot  but  see 
this:  and  hence,  when  in  other  places  he  is  obliged  to 
define  moral  good  as  conformity  to  law,  he  grants  that 
a  law  merely  arbitrary  would  not  create  obligations,  nor 
would  conformity  -to  it  be  virtue.  Law  only  does  this, 
he  says,  when  its  requirements  are  agreeable  to  God's 
law.  Why,  then,  does  God's  law  found  obligation, 
and  why  is  conformity  to  it  virtuous  ?  The  only 
answer  is,  because  the  divine  law  is  the  expres- 
sion of  intrinsic  righteousness  ;  but  that  answer 
Condillac  cannot  give ;  his  system  has  no  place  for 
an  a  priori  idea  like  this.  So  that  the  moral  distinc- 
tion is  still  as  completely  left  out,  as  at  the  beginning. 
The  best  solution  he  can  give  is  this :  Laws  are  not 
arbitrary  when  they  are  dictated  by  the  wants  and  fac-. 
ulties  with  which  our  Creator  has  naturally  and  gen- 
erally endowed  men  ;  and  when  the  act  or  neglect  which 
the  law  prohibits  would  bring  its  own  natural  penalty. 
Such  laws  as  these  obligate,  and  for  that  reason.  Still, 
I  rejoin,  there  is  no  moral  motive.  For,  the  wants  of 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    37 

which  Condillac  speaks  are,  on  his  system,  physical ;  and 
the  natural  penalties  of  their  violation  or  neglect  are 
physical  evil.  Still  we  have  no  good  but  pleasure  or 
pain,  and  no  motive  but  self-interest;  righteousness 
there  is  none  in  the  whole  scheme :  the  idea  of  it  is 
really  left  out  wholly.  This  definition  of  moral  good  as 
conformity  to  law  curiously  confirms  my  charge,  that 
the  Sensualistic  philosophy  has  no  place  for  any  moral 
science.  The  very  principle  of  that  philosophy  is,  that 
the  mind  has  nothing  save  what  sensations  give  it.  But 
morality  can  neither  be  seen,  heard,  touched,  tasted, 
nor  smelled.  What  is  Condillac s  reply  to  this?  Mor- 
ality is  visible,  says  he:  for  it  consists  in  actions  con- 
formable to  law,  and  the  actions  are  visible,  and  the  law 
is  visible  !  How  could  a  more  emphatic  confession  be 
uttered,  than  this  wretched  statement,  of  the  justice  of 
my  charge?  It  is  too  plain  to  need  remark,  that  a  for- 
mal act  does  not  constitute  morality.  Its  morality  is  in 
its  intention,  its  subjective  motive,  the  conformity  of 
this  motive  to  an  a  priori,  rational  standard,  of  which 
sense  can  have  no  cognition.  Law  is  not  morality  be- 
cause it  is  law  ;  but  because  it  is  righteous  law.  And 
this  abstract  quality  of  righteousness,  again,  which 
alone  characterizes  the  law  as  a  moral  standard,  is 
invisible  to  eye-sight. 

Condillac  is,  again,  inconsistent  with  himself,  in  assert- 
ing, in  other  works,  the  simplicity  and  spirituality  of 
the  soul,  which  the  consistent  reader  of  his  main  work, 
his  "  Treatise  of  the  Sensations,"  is  there  virtually 
taught  to  deny.  If  sensations  are  absolutely  the  sole 
sources  of  all  our  ideas,  since  sensation  only  informs  us 
of  the  being  and  property  of  bodies  ;  what  business 
have  we  with  spirits?  They  should  have  no  place  in 
our  science  :  they  are  neither  visible  nor  tangible.  But 
Condillac  held  the  simplicity  and  immateriality  of  the 
soul,  and  in  one  place  argued  for  it  with  a  most  incon- 
sistent conclusiveness,  from  the  process  of  comparison, 


38  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

which,,  in  all  other  places,  he  describes  as  merely  a 
transformed  sensation.  The  comparison  of  two  objects 
in  a  cognitive  subject,  says  he,  must  imply  the  absolute 
unity  and  permanent  identity  of  that  subject.  It  sup- 
poses a  centre,  where  the  different  terms  of  the  com- 
parison are  assembled.  Locke  spoke  foolishly,  when 
he  stated  that  for  aught  we  can  know,  some  arrange- 
ment of  material  parts  combined  together,  may  be  en- 
dowed by  the  Creator  with  the  ability  to  think  ;  be- 
cause, as  Locke  says,  we  are  ignorant  of  what  matter 
may  be  capable,  not  knowing  many  of  its  qualities. 
This  ignorance,  answers  Condillac,  grounds  no  such 
conclusion.  It  is  wholly  unnecessary  to  be  acquainted 
with  all  the  properties  of  matter,  to  be  certain  that 
matter  cannot  think.  "  It  is  enough  to  remark  that  the 
subject  of  thought  must  be  one.  Now  a  material  mass 
is  not  one  ;  it  is  a  multitude."  Here  Condillac  speaks 
like  a  true  philosopher ;  but  he  speaks  against  his  own 
principle.  If  monadic  spirit  is  the  necessary  middle 
term  in  every  comparison,  then  the  resulting  judgment 
is  something  else  than  a  "  transformed  sensation  ;"  it  is 
a  distinct  idea  generated  by  the  understanding,  not 
given  to  it. 

So  far  is  Condillac  from  adopting  the  materialistic 
conclusion  to  which  his  system  fairly  leads,  he  leans 
rather  to  idealism.  Having  committed  himself  to. the 
representative  theory  of  perception,  he  draws  from  it 
the  conclusion  which  is  inevitable,  that  our  perceptions 
are  only  valid  relatively  to  ourselves.  We  must,  says 
he,  "  take  good  care  not  to  think  that  the  ideas  which 
we  have  of  extension  and  movement  are  conformed  to 
the  reality  of  things.  Whatever  may  be  the  senses 
which  give  us  these  ideas,  it  is  not  possible  to  pass  from 
what  we  perceive  to  what  really  is."  Here  he  is  trav- 
eling the  same  road  which  led  Bp.  Berkeley  to  a  denial 
of  the  reality  of  the  objective  ;  and  Hume  to  universal 
scepticism.  We  shall  see  that  this  is  not  the  last  in- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    39 

stance  in  which  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  has  ted  to 
the  inconsistent  result  of  idealism. 

Once  more  :  the  "  Treatise  of  the  Sensations  "  seems 
to  leave  its  sensitive  subject  devoid  of  all  cognition  of  a 
God,  and  possessed  only  of  certain  superstitions  which 
contradict  themselves.  This  is  consistent.  Sensation 
itself  shows  us  no  God.  But  in  subsequent  works,  the 
author  presents  an  a  posteriori  argument  for  the  exist- 
ence of  an  infinite  God,  which,  in  less  inconsistent 
hands,  would  be  sufficiently  sound.  The  multitude  of 
dependent  effects  which  surround  us  must  ultimately 
lead  the  mind  to  an  Independent  Cause.  Our  con- 
scious limitations  of  being  necessitate,  as  a  complement 
of  our  thinking,  some  Being  absolute.  This  process 
would  be  valid,  upon  two  conditions  :  That  the  mind 
be  assured  that  a  cause  of  every  effect  is  a  law  necessary 
and  universal;  that  the  mind  be  capable  of  appre- 
hending the  reality  of  the  infinite.  But  what  room  is 
there  for  either  of  these  beliefs  in  a  system  of"  trans- 
formed sensations?"  Each  man's  sensitive  perceptions 
are  partial  and  particular :  they  can  contain  in  them- 
selves no  universal,  necessary  truth.  Sensation  can 
only  be  of  the  definite  and  the  limited:  how  then  can 
it  contain  the  infinite  ?  In  fact,  Condillac  nowhere 
discusses  or  states  the  law  of  causation  as  a  necessary 
truth  :  he  simply  omits  it.  But  here  he  inconsistently 
assumes  it,  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  his  system.  These 
inconsistencies  were  probably  forced  upon  him  by  the 
influence  of  prescriptive  opinions,  and  of  the  current 
beliefs  of  the  age  out  of  which  he  grew.  The  age  which 
he  helped  to  usher  in  was  a  bolder  one  ;  and  in  carry- 
ing out  his  method,  it  did  not  hesitate  to  avouch  the 
legitimate  corollaries  of  materialism  and  atheism. 

4.  The  rashness  and  audacity  requisite  to  avow  the 
full  results  of  the  principles  of  Locke,  and  especially  of 
Condillac,  were  found  in  the  French  writer  Helvetius, 
whose  noted  work,  "  L'Esprit,"  appeared  in  1758,  just 


4O  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

when  the  labors  of  his  predecessor  had  placed  the  Sen- 
sualistic philosophy  upon  the  throne  of  popular  opinion 
in  that  country.  This  book  propounds  a  theory  of 
the  human  mind,  as  a  foundation  for  a  moral  theory, 
which  begins  with  the  principles  of  Con.dillac,  and  only 
differs  from  him  in  dropping- his  amiable  inconsistencies. 
According  to  Helvetius,  as  according  to  his  predeces- 
sors, the  problem  of  philosophy  is  to  investigate,  not 
the  properties,  but  the  origin  of  our  ideas.  Man  has 
but  two  mental  powers,  sensation  and  memory,  which 
are  both  passive  powers.  Sensation  is  purely  a  phys- 
ical susceptibility :  and  memory  is  but  sensation  pro- 
longed and  enfeebled.  Judgment  is  also  but  sensation 
modified  ;  to  say  "  I  judge  "  is  the  same  thing  as  saying 
"  I  feel."  Our  ideas  of  space,  duration,  spirit,  infini- 
tude, are  but  illusions  of  thought.  We  really  know 
nothing  of  space  but  extension,  of  infinitude  but  the  in- 
definite. Errors  of  judgment  arise  wholly  from  pas- 
sion and  ignorance.  Our  mental  processes  are  essen- 
tially the  same  with  those  of  brutes;  and  the  only  rea- 
son that  man  is  in  a  higher  state  than  they,  is,  that  his 
corporeal  organization  gives  him  a  superiority,  and 
especially  the  capabilities  of  his  hands,  as  compared 
with  their  hoofs  and  claws.  Liberty  is  an  illusion,  save 
as  it  is  the  liberation  of  our  bodily  members  from  ma- 
terial bonds ;  freedom  of  will  is  an  idea  of  which  phi- 
losophy can  know  nothing,  and  which  can  only  be  held, 
if  held  at  all,  on  the  authority  of  theology.  As  all  ideas 
are  merely  relative  to  our  own  susceptibility  of  impres- 
sion, certainty  is  impossible,  and  absolute  or  necessary 
truths  there  are  none.  All  ideas  are  but  probable  ap- 
pearances ;  and  a  calculation  of  probabilities  is  the  only 
reasoning  possible.  Helve  tins  revives  the  supposition  of 
Locke,  that  a  body  organized  somehow  of  mutter  may 
possibly  be  sentient,  and  thinking ;  and  to  this  opinion 
he  gives  the  fullest  weight  of  probability.  Indeed  he 
leans  to  the  opinion,  that  all  matter  is,  if  we  but  knew 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Prev TOILS  Century.    41 

it,  sentient.  "  One  can  only  understand  by  this  word, 
matter,  the  collection  of  all  the  properties  common 
to  bodies.  The  meaning  of  the  word  being  thus  de- 
termined, it  would  only  remain  to  know  whether  exten- 
sion, solidity,  and  impenetrability  were  the  only  proper- 
ties common  to  all  beings.  May  not  the  discovery  of 
such  a  force  as  attraction,  for  example,  make  us  suspect 
that  bodies  have  properties  still  unknown,  such  as  the 
faculty  of  feeling,  which,  while  only  manifesting  itself  in 
the  bodies  of  animals,  may  yet  be  common  to  all  bodies  ?" 
Have  we  not  here,  in  different  words,  the  same  conclu- 
sion which  is  presented  to  us  in  our  own  day,  as  the 
last  result  of  its  "  advanced  thought  ?  "  Of  God  and  of 
immortality  Helvetius,  of  course,  knows  nothing  ;  and 
of  the  former  his  work  speaks  not  one  word. 

It  will  not  be  hard  for  the  reader  to  divine  what  kind 
of  moral  theory  this  author  deduces  from  such  a  psy- 
chology. .  It  is,  of  course,  a  system  of  unmitigated  and 
supreme  selfishness.  Enjoyment  is  man's  only  rational 
end  :  and  the  only  enjoyment  is  physical,  the  pleasures 
of  the  senses.  The  universal  motive  of  action  is  self- 
interest  craving  this  end  and  shunning  the  opposite. 
This  is  equally  the  sole  motive  of  individuals  and  of 
societies  and  nations.  The  man  who  will  rise  above 
prejudices  and  self-flatteries  and  make  a  true  analysis  of 
motives,  will  find  that  he  never  performed  a  deliberate 
act  from  any  other  motive  than  self-interest,  and  that 
mankind  never  does.  What,  then,  is  the  motive  of  a  sym- 
pathetic act,  relieving  the  suffering  of  another  without 
reward  ?  Says  Hclvetius,  the  motive  is  nothing  but  the 
selfish  desire  the  agent  has  to  deliver  himself  from  the 
instinctive  pain  of  sympathy  !  So,  when  the  affection- 
ate mother  practices  what  the  world  calls  disinterested 
devotion  to  her  children,  her  real  motive  is  the  selfish 
desire  to  enjoy  the  self-gratification  and  the  applause 
attached  to  such  actions.  Is  any  gratitude  due,  then, 
from  any  beneficiary  to  any  benefactor?  Strictly,  none  : 


42  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

the  benefactor  has  no  right  whatever  to  claim  grati- 
tude. Society,  perceiving,  from  the  view  of  self-interest, 
the  advantage  of  encouraging  and  multiplying  such 
benefactions,  diligently  inculcates  the  sentiment  of 
gratitude  ;  but  it  is  an  artificial  sentiment  which  men 
feel  they  are  interested  to  propagate  ;  nothing  more. 
So,  the  most  splendid  acts  of  patriotism  are  simply  acts 
of  self-gratification.  When  the  elder  Brutus  ordered 
the  execution  of  his  two  sons,  it  was  only  because  the 
passion  of  patriotism  was  more  imperious  than  that  of 
paternity.  When  the  benevolent  man  does  good,  and 
the  malevolent  mischief,  it  is  simply  because,  to  the 
nature  of  one,  the  sight  of  good  has  become  by  habit  a 
selfish  enjoyment,  and  to  the  other,  the  sight  of  suffer- 
ing is  agreeable.  Both  are  equally  consulting  their 
own  selfish  pleasure.  Society,  moved  by  self-interest, 
and  perceiving  its  advantage  in  the  multiplication  of 
benevolent  and  patriotic  actions,  assiduously  fosters  the 
self-gratification  and  applause  now  attending  them,  and 
this  is  the  whole  account  of  what  men  call  approbation. 
The  probity  of  an  action  is  nothing  but  its  utility. 

From  this  code  it  follows  ;  and  Helvetius  bold)7  avows 
the  corollary;  that  there  are  no  duties  of  self-restraint 
from  any  acts  not  visibly  injurious  to  our  own  enjoy- 
ment. There  can  be  no  sin  in  any  sensuality  which,  on 
the  whole,  confers  pleasure.  The  wretched  trade  of 
the  Cyprian  is  to  be  regarded  as,  on  the  whole,  appro v- 
able  ;  because  their  luxuries  stimulate  the  handicraft 
arts,  and  circulate  money. 

The  virtues  of  modesty,  chastity,  and  temperance 
are  the  objects  only  of  his  gibes :  he  labors  to  show 
from  history,  that  they  are  unnecessary  follies.  Love 
and  friendship  are  with  him  simple  results  of  selfishness: 
for  their  appetencies  are  nothing  but  the  expressions  of 
a  selfish  want.  Of  the  affection  of  the  sexes,  he  knows 
nothing  but  animal  lust,  and  sneers  at  all  else  as  an 
insolent  affectation.  The  sole  impulse  to  friendship  is 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.  43 

the  sense  of  pain  which  one  feels  for  lack  of  a  vent  for  the 
expression  of  the  predominant  passion  of  the  hour.  If 
a  man  is  prosperous,  his  only  need  of  a  friend  is  that  he 
may  indulge  himself  through  him,  in  the  selfish  vaunt- 
ing and  a  contemplation  of  his  welfare.  If  he  is  in 
adversity,  then  he  needs  a  fellow,  simply  as  an  object 
by  which  he  may  gain  the  selfish  relief  of  querulous- 
ness.  (See  Bernard  Mandeville's  "  Fable  of  the  Bees," 
etc.) 

If  the  motive  of  action  is  thus  absolutely  simple  and 
uniform,  how  comes  it  that  men  differ  so  much  in 
opinions  and  conduct  ?  This  arises,  says  he,  solely 
from  ignorance  :  it  is  because  men  do  not  understand 
alike  the  actual  effects  of  actions  on  their  own  well- 
being,  Hence,  all  that  is  necessary  to  procure  uniform 
virtue,  is,  that  the  rulers  shall  diffuse  intelligence.  The 
whole  art  of.  ruling  well  consists  in  teaching  men  per- 
spicuously what  sorts  of  action  will,  on  the  whole, 
result  in  most  pleasure,  and  in  directing  and  stimulat- 
ing them  by  the  hope  of  sensual  gratifications.  All 
men's  natural  capacities  are  equal ;  and  all  the  differ- 
ences of  character  and  talent  are  caused  by  education. 
For,  indeed,  the  sole  attribute  of  the  mind  is  a  capacity 
to  be  impressed.  The  only  faculties  are  sensation  and 
memory  ;  and  all  the  rest  are  merely  modifications  of 
these.  Character  is  naught  but  a  congeries  of  acquired 
habits  ;  and  these  are  the  handiwork  solely  of  the  out- 
ward impressions  to  which  the  person  is  subjected,  and 
whose  occurrence  is  to  him  fortuitous  and  unavoidable. 
Hence,  it  is  obviously  absurd  to  hold  a  man  responsible 
for  his  character  and  principles  of  action  ;  for  they  are 
in  no  sense  of  bis  choosing,  but  are  results  of  a  passive 
power  in  his  nature,  operated  on  from  without.  It 
would  be  precisely  as  unreasonable  to  hold  the  man 
responsible  for  these  principles,  as  to  hold  the  stone 
responsible  for  the  cavities  worn  in  it  by  the  continual 
dropping  of  the  water.  With  man's  free  agency  denied, 


44       "  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

and  his  active  principles  turned  into  results  of  a  passiv- 
ity, it  is  obvious  that  no  basis  whatever  is  left  for  a  sys- 
tem of  ethics.  Man  is  simply  a  more  accomplished 
beast,  with  certain  instincts  cultivated  by  the  circum- 
stances incident  to  his  gregariousness.  It  was  not 
necessary  for  Helvetius  to  draw  the  conclusion,  that 
man  has  no  immortality,  and  is  subject  to  no  future 
rewards  and  punishments.  The  sensual  and  infidel 
Frenchman  needed  no  help  for  this,  but  speedily  ran  to 
the  conclusion,  "  Death  is  an  eternal  sleep." 

We  thus  see  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  uninten- 
tionally revived  by  Locke,  and  furthered  by  Condillac, 
flower  out  in  the  bold  hands  of  Helvetius  into  its 
matured  results.  This  audacious  speculator  leads  us 
down  to  the  worst  conclusions  reached  by  the  philoso- 
pher of  Malmesbury,  more  than  a  hundred  years  before. 
Unrestrained  by  that  thin  show  of  respect  which  the 
Christian  sentiment  of  England  imposed  on  Hobbes, 
causing  him  to  veil  his  virtual  atheism,  the  insolent 
Frenchman  discloses  to  us  what  are  the  real  results  of 
the  dangerous  maxims  from  which  the  Sensualistic 
philosophy  flows  :  he  interpreted  his  master,  Condillac, 
as  Mandeville  did  Hobbes,  and  as  Collins  and  Hartley 
did  Locke.  This  miserable  book  was  received  with 
acclamation  by  the  French  society  which  had  been 
trained  up  under  the  tuition  of  Voltaire.  Even  a 
Rousseau  could  see  its  mortal  taints,  and  protest  against 
its  manifest  materialism  and  atheism.  But  Helvetius 
was  hailed  by  the  sceptical  multitude  as  the  greatest  of 
the  interpreters  of  human  nature  ;  and  his  system  of 
naked  selfishness  and  sensuality  became  the  "  mode " 
with  the  genteel  mob  of  Paris.  It  thought,  with 
Madame  du  Deffant,  that  he  was  "the  man  who  had 
told  everybody's  secret."  Here  should  be  repeated  the 
remark  which  I  made  upon  the  scheme  of  Hobbes : 
that  its  plausibility  arises  wholly  from  the  fact,  that  the 
instances  upon  which  it  is  supported  are  taken  ex- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    45 

clusively  from  diseased  specimens  of  human  nature. 
Helvetius  analyses,  in  a  pretentious  and  imperfect  man- 
ner, the  motives  of  the  depraved,  the  Godless,  the  sen- 
sual, the  supremely  selfish  ;  that  is,  of  the  debauched 
society  amidst  which  he  lived ;  and  he  had  no  trouble 
in  finding  self-interest  and  animal  good  their  exclusive 
rule  and  end.  He  had  only  to  treat  as  hypocrisies  the 
judgments  of  reason  and  conscience,  which  are  so 
influential  in  all  natures  not  fatally  debauched,  but 
which  he  and  his  had  covered  up  beneath  the  sordid 
accretions  of  their  sensuality  ;  he  had  only  to  sneer 
them  off  the  stage  ;  and  his  work  was  done,  to  his  hand. 
Cousin,  when  describing  the  system  of  Helvetius  ex- 
pounder, Saint  Lambert,  remarks  upon  the  citation  of 
the  moral  independence  of  Cato,  who,  in  the  midst  of 
his  overthrow,  preferred  the  testimony  of  a  right- 
eous conscience  to  the  guilty  prosperity  of  Julius 
Csesar. 

"Victrix  causa  Diis  placuit,  victa  Catoric"  But  this 
instance  is  overwhelming  to  the  selfish  system ;  for 
public  opinion  and  advantage  were  wholly  on  the  side 
of  Caesar ;  and  had  these  been  the  rudiments  of  Cato's 
moral  system,  he  should  have  envied  the  guilty  but 
prosperous  -conqueror.  The  critic  then  remarks,  with 
fine  sarcasm,  "  I  cannot  imagine  how  Saint  Lambert  was 
so  maladroit  as  to  invoke  such  a  reminiscence.  It  is  an 
act  of  justice  we  must  render  to  Helvetius,  that  he 
chooses  his  examples  much  better :  he  cites  none  but 
tyrants  and  strumpets." 

§  5.  Helvetius  was  too  outspoken  in  declaring  the  con- 
sequences of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  to  complete 
the  work  of  corruption.  The  better  classes  of  the 
French  people  recoiled  from  the  naked  enormity  of 
his  conclusions.  The  Church  condemned  his  book,  and 
even  compelled  the  author  to  sign  a  recantation,  in 
which  he  exercised  all  the  unblushing  falsehood  which 
his  doctrines  naturally  sanctioned.  The  Sorbonne  de- 


46  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

nounced  his  system.  Even  the  old  autocrat  of  infidelity, 
Voltaire,  dissented,  and  the  sentimental  Rousseau  ear- 
nestly protested  against  the  sensuality  and  materialism 
of  the  scheme.  The  sounder  thinkers,  like  Turgot,  ex- 
posed the  conclusions  and  the  premises.  It  remained 
for  the  friend  and  literary  executor  of  Helvetius,  Saint 
Lambert,  an  old  and  mediocre  poet,  to  place  a  coating 
of  decency  upon  his  nauseous  principles,  without  in 
reality  amending  them  in  any  respect.  The  result  was 
their  general  adoption,  during  the  revolutionary  epoch, 
by  literary  men  and  politicians  of  the  new  party.  Saint 
Lambert,  when  a  very  old  man,  and  not  far  from  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  left  the  walks  of  the  muses, 
and  published  his  "  Principles  of  Morals  among  all 
Nations;  or,  Universal  Catechism."  This  work  was 
applauded  by  his  cotemporaries,  and  one  of  the  decen- 
nial prizes  which  the  government  of  the  Consulate  had 
decreed  for  the  encouragement  of  those  who  reflected 
honor  on  the  nation  by  their  works,  was  decreed  to  him 
in  the  most  complimentary  terms. 

Saint  Lambert's  point  of  view  is  clearly  disclosed  by 
his  praises  of  Helvetius,  of  Locke,  and  especially  of 
Hobbes.  u  Helvetius,"  says  he,  "  is  the  first  moralist 
who  has  made  use  of  the  principles  of  Locke  ;  and  he 
employs  them  without  pedantry  and  without  obscurity: 
he  aims  to  show  the  effects  of  the  three  principal  causes 
of  our  errors ;  our  passions,  because  they  make  us  see 
objects  under  only  one  aspect :  ignorance  of  facts  ;  and 
the  abuse  of  words.  In  treating  of  this  last  cause  of  our 
errors,  he  refers  to  Locke  :  but  it  is  after  having  gone 
much  farther  than  he  went.  Concerning  virtue,  he 
gives  Us  notions  clearer  and  juster  than  any  one  has 
had  before  him.  It  results  from  his  principles,  that  the 
thing  which  has  most  retarded  the  progress  of  morals 
is  the  habit  of  attaching  the  idea  of  virtue  to  actions,  to 
a  conduct,  which  are  not  useful  to  any  one,  and  of 
separating  particular  interests  from  the  general  in- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.  47 

terest."  (Thus  self-advantage  is  assumed  as  the  only 
moral  end.) 

"  Hobbes  is  the  first  who  has  had  clear  ideas  about  that 
portion  of  freedom  accorded  to  our  souls.  His  opinion 
about  the  right  of  nature  has  been  much  censured  ;  it 
yet  appears  to  me  the  truest  which  there  is  concerning 
this  matter  ;  that  is  to  say,  that  there  is  no  right  of  nat- 
ure" 

The  morals  of  Saint  Lambert  know,  in  fact,  no  spirit, 
and  no  God.  The  latter  is  left  out  of  his  system.  He 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  duty,  obligation,  or 
sanctions.  The  idea  of  future  rewards  and  punish- 
ments is  as  totally  omitted,  as  though  he  were  writ- 
ing of  pigs.  Says  he,  "  A  man  upon  entering  the 
world  is  only  an  organized,  sensitive  mass ;  from  all  that 
surrounds  him  and  from  his  own  wants,  he  receives 
that  mind,  which  may  be,  perchance,  the  mind  of  a 
Locke,  or  Montesquieu,  that  genius  which  will  master 
the  elements  and  measure  the  skies."  "  Man  is  sensi- 
tive to  pleasure  and  pain  :  these  sensations  are  the 
sources  of  his  cognitions  and  actions.  Pleasure :  pain  : 
These  are  his  masters  :  and  the  business  of  his  life  will 
be,  to  seek  the  one  and  shun  the  other."  "  Nature 
creates  our  souls  "  by  means  of  the  ideas  which  strike 
our  senses.  Satirizing  the  "  superstitious  moralists," 
whom  Helvetius  had  termed  contemptuously,  "  hypo- 
crite moralists,"  he  says  :  "  They  propose,  by  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  pleasures,  to  merit  that  happiness  which  they 
have  placed  beyond  this  life.  With  them  the  present 
is  nothing ;  the  future  is  all.  And  in  the  finest  parts  of 
the  world,  the  science  of  salvation  has  been  cultivated 
at  the  expense  of  happiness." 

According  to  Saint  Lambert,  the  only  moral  motive 
is  animal  good :  and  the  only  moral  standard  is  public 
opinion  and  the  utility  of  our  actions.  Conscience  is 
simply  a  sentiment ;  the  pleasure  or  pain,  namely,  which 
arises  from  perceiving  that  our  act  has  incurred  the 


48  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

reprobation  of  public  opinion  and  has  been  destructive 
of  pleasure.  In  proof,  he  offers  the  fact  that  we  usually 
blame  ourselves  for  the  actions  which  public  opinion 
blames,  and  for  no  others.  Our  instinctive  principles 
of  action,  as  they  are  called,  if  they  go  beyond  the  de- 
sire of  pleasure  and  aversion  to  pain,  are  nothing  but 
the  results  of  associations  which  experience  teaches  us 
to  form  between  our  sensations. 

The  "  Universal  Catechism  ''  begins  thus  :  i.  "  What 
is  man?"  Ans.  "A  being  sensitive  and  rational."  2. 
"As  sensitive  and  rational,  what  ought  he  to  do?" 
Ans.  "  Seek  pleasure,  and  avoid  pain."  3.  "  Who  are 
those  who  love  themselves  aright?"  Ans.  "Those 
who  do  not  separate  their  own  welfare  from  the  wel- 
fare of  others."  "What  is  virtue?"  Ans.  "It  is  a 
habitual  disposition  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of 
others."  It  is  true  that  the  author  also  deduces  some 
respectable  rules;  such  as  these:.  "Why  is  pride  a 
vice?"  "Because  it  injures  ourselves  and  others." 
"  Whether  powerful  or  feeble,  mortal,  be  just  to  all 
men."  "  What  is  justice  ?""  A  disposition  to  conduct 
ourselves  towards  others  as  we  would  desire  them  to 
conduct  themselves  towards  us."  But  from  the  princi- 
ples of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  these  good  pre- 
cepts are  only  inconsistencies.  If  man  has  no  other 
rational  end  than  to  seek  pleasure  and  shun  pain  ;  if  he 
is  to  have  no  hereafter;  and  if  he  is  not  related  to  an 
infinite  rectitude  in  any  divine  ruler,  then  it  can  never 
be  shown  to  be  rational  to  seek  the  happiness  of  others 
at  our  own  expense.  No  duty  involving  self-clenial 
can  ever  be  demonstrated.  For,  why  should  a  man 
forfeit  his  highest  rational  end,  for  the  sake  of  any 
other  end  ?  Will  Saint  Lambert  say,  that  the  pain  of 
denying  ourselves  a  sensitive  enjoyment  must  be 
chosen,  rather  than  the  pain  of  braving  adverse  public 
opinion?  Or  will  he  say :  Sensitive  pleasure  must  be 
postponed  to  social  and  intellectual  ones  ?  Let  us  sup- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    49 

pose  the  transgressor  to  answer :  "  I  am  so  constituted 
as  to  be  callous  to  the  pain  of  adverse  public  opinion, 
and  to  intellectual  joys,  and  to  the  pain  of  witnessing 
my  fellow  creature's  misery."  This  philosophy  has  no 
answer  :  To  that  man,  the  supremely  selfish  conduct  is 
the  most  rational,  and  therefore  the  most  proper,  wher- 
ever he  is  not  restrained  by  force. 

I  have  thus  presented,  in  brief  outline,  the  history  of 
the  earlier  Sensualistic  philosophy  of  modern  Europe, 
because  there  is  no  way  so  profitable  for  learning  the 
true  nature  and  tendencies  of  a  system.  The  reader 
may  be  assured  that  there  is  no  waste  of  time  and  la- 
bor in  such  a  review.  It  teaches  us  by  the  sure  lights 
of  experience.  As  we  see  these  first  principles,  in  suc- 
cessive ages,  and  in  different  countries,  leading  the  most 
diverse  spirits  towards  or  to  the  same  malignant  re- 
sults, we  become  assured  of  the  falsehood  and  danger 
•of  the  premises,  as  no  mere  speculation  could  convince 
us.  We  see  a  pure  and  pious  Locke,  a  perspicacious 
ecclesiastic  like  Condillac,  an  aged  literary  coxcomb 
like  Saint  Lambert,  pursuing  their  deductions  from  the 
primal  error,  which  denies  to  the  human  spirit  all  ti 
priori  ideas  and  judgments,  assigning  to  it  nothing  but 
perceptions  and  their  results.  They  are  restrained  in 
part  by  their  prescriptive  opinions,  and  their  tempers 
and  educations.  But  they  yet  travel  in  the  same  direc- 
tion with  the  hard-mouthed,  atheistic  Hobbes,  and  the 
debauched  roue,  Helvetius.  They  stop  short  of  the 
most  extreme  conclusions  of  the  latter,  only  in  virtue 
of  a  happy  inconsistency.  The  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruits.  Moreover,  the  social  consequences  of  the  par- 
tial prevalence  of  these  opinions  have  given  the  world 
a  lesson  which  it  should  never  forget.  Men  often  stig- 
matize metaphysical  philosophy  as  shadowy  and  vague  : 
they  call  it  cloud-land,  contrasting  the  instability  of  its 
positions  with  the  practical  and  useful  truths  of  physics, 
as  the  fickle  vapors  are  contrasted  with  the  solid 
4 


50  Senstialistic  Philosophy. 

ground.  Let  us  accept  the  similitude  for  a  moment. 
We  are  at  once  reminded  that  it  is  from  this  cloud-land, 
the  most  beneficent  and  the  most  destructive  agencies 
descend,  which  bless  or  devastate  the  habitations  of 
men.  From  those  shifting  clouds  descends  the  genial 
rain,  which  waters  the  earth,  making  it  yield  bread  for 
the  eater  and  seed  for  the  sower.  Thence  also  descends 
the  mighty  wind,  which  wrecks  the  costliest  works  of 
man  and  buries  the  mangled  builder  beneath  his  own 
ruins.  Thence  falls  the  thunderbolt,  which  in  one  in- 
stant dashes  him  into  death.  The  philosophy  of  the 
infidels  and  Sensualists  of  France  was  the  storm-cloud 
from  which  fell  the  most  ghastly  ruin  witnessed  in 
modern  times.  The  reign  of  terror  was  the  offspring 
of  this  philosophy.  It  was  under  its  express  guidance 
that  the  legislature  decreed  God  a  non-entity,  and  death 
an  eternal  sleep ;  that  divine  worship  was  formally 
abolished,  and  a  courtesan  enthroned  as  the  Goddess  of 
Reason  ;  that  the  guillotine  stood  u  en  permanence,"  pour- 
ing its  stream  of  innocent  blood  down  the  street  daily  ; 
that  the  prisons  were  crowded  with  the  noblest  and 
best  of  the  land,  and  emptied  by  indiscriminate  massa- 
cre ;  that  marriage  was  superseded,  and  twenty  thou- 
sand bastards  were  born  to  Paris  in  one  year;  that  the 
skins  of  human  victims  were  actually  tanned  in  the  tan- 
neries, and  employed  for  common  leather.  It  scarcely 
needed  the  atrocities  and  frenzy  of  the  Paris  Com- 
mune in  our  own  days  to  give  every  reasonable  man  as- 
surance that  the  same  tree  will  ever  bear  the  same  fruit. 
To  sum  up  the  whole  in  one  word,  the  theory  which 
begins  by  denying  to  man  his  spiritual  attributes,  natu- 
rally ends  in  making  him  an  animal. 

None  can  deny,  in  the  light  of  this  history,  the  pow- 
erful influence  of  philosophy  upon  human  well-being, 
either  for  good  or  for  evil.  Is  this  subject  of  thought, 
then,  irreducible  to  a  science,  as  the  forces  of  the  clouds 
and  winds  were  for  our  forefathers  ?  Are  metaphysical 


Sensu alis tic  Philosophy  of  Previous  Century.    51 

inquiries  incapable  of  coming  into  the  form  of  any  true 
and  practical  science  which  may  yield  us  safe  rules  of 
precaution  and  of  moral  proceeding  ;  because  the  sub- 
ject, is  incapable  of  measurement  in  magnitudes  and 
numbers  ?  If  we  are  to  submit  to  this  conclusion,  then 
we  must  be  resigned  to  regard  the  moral  and  spiritual 
powers  of  human  nature,  just  as  our  primitive  fore- 
fathers regarded  the  forces  of  the  sky,  as  things  real, 
terrific,  but  unknowable ;  whose  devastating  powers 
may  burst  upon  us,  we  know  not  when  ;  which  we  can 
no  more  resist  than  we  can  prognosticate.  One  thing 
is  certain :  the  mental  and  moral  sciences  cannot  be 
formulated  by  imposing  upon  them  the  "  Positivist  " 
method  ;  for  this  is  to  annihilate  them,  by  destroying 
everything  characteristic  of  that  rational  spirit  which 
is  their  subject.  May  we  not  hope  that,  as  the  genius 
of  a  Maury  has  at  length  found  the  laws  of  those  me- 
teorological forces  which,  to  former  ages,  were  only 
unknown  fears;  so  the  patience  and  humility  of  other 
inquirers  will  finally  settle  the  laws  of  spirit,  and  build 
a  philosophy  which  shall  command  the  confidence  of 
all?  But  if  this  is  ever  effected, it  must  be  by  the  same 
modest  and  faithful  methods  by  which  Maury  has 
tracked  the  viewless  winds.  We  must  not  arrogantly 
begin  with  hypotheses  as  to  the  sources  of  the  things 
we  examine  ;  nor  resolve  that  nature  shall  be  forced, 
whether  or  no,  upon  the  Procrustean  bed  of  our  sim- 
plifications. We  must  begin  by  the  faithful  and  pains- 
taking inspection  of  the  facts  of  consciousness,  and 
learn  from  the  qualities  of  these  facts  by  a  true  induc- 
tion, what  nature  shall  choose  to  disclose  to  us  of  her 
methods. 


CHAPTER   III. 

ANALYSIS   OF  THE   HUMAN   MIND,   BY   JAMES   MILL. 


nnHE  foremost  English  name  in  the  false  philosophy 
•4-  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  that  of  John  Stuart 
Mill,  who  has  recently  passed  from  the  stage.  The  plea 
for  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  which  we  propose  to 
review  in  this  chapter,  was  written  by  his  father.  We 
shall  find  that  in  most  respects  the  son  has  inherited 
not  only  the  name,  but  the  opinions  of  the  family.  One 
of  the  later  acts  of  the  son's  life  was  to  edit  a  complete 
edition  of  this  work  of  James  Mill,  with  copious  notes 
by  himself,  Professor  Bain,  and  the  historian  Grote. 
The  relation  of  paternity  which  the  father  bears  to  the 
system  of  his  more  famous  and  influential  son,  gives 
great  importance  to  this  book.  I  have  selected  it  as 
the  clearest  representative  of  the  revived  philosophy  of 
sensualism  in  our  century,  as  it  is  one  of  the  earliest. 
We  shall  now  see  this  false  system  proceeding  from 
the  same  postulates,  and  advancing  to  the  same  con- 
clusions, which  we  briefly  reviewed  in  the  previous 
century.  Its  first  principle  is:  "Nihilin  intellectu  quod 
non  prius  in  sensu  "  :  its  last  deduction  is,  again,  mate- 
rialism and  atheism. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  traits  of  the  work  of 
James  Mill  is,  that  we  have  here  a  psychology,  without 
any  mention,  even  the  slightest,  of  a  soul,  or  God  ! 
Morell,  noting  the  latter  omission,  finds  it  the  natural 
result  of  his  principles  :  but  he  adds  :  "  Whether  the 
author  would  have  sanctioned  such  inferences,  I  have 
no  means  whatever  of  judging."  The  autobiography 
(52) 


Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.         53 

lately  published  of  his  son  supplies  that  means  :  for 
J.  S.  Mill  tells  us,  with  an  indecent  boldness,  that  an 
embittered  hatred  and  scorn  of  Christianity  was  one 
of  the  chief  traits  of  the  parent  whom  he  so  greatly 
revered.  We  may  remark  in  passing,  upon  this,  as  a 
characteristic  instance  of  the  quiet  insolence  of  infidel- 
ity. Let  a  theologian  offer  any  discredit  to  a  quality 
which  these  gentlemen  have  chosen  to  select,  as  an 
object  of  their  own  value  and  veneration,  such  as  the 
quality  of  philosophic  liberality,  or  toleration,  and  they 
visit  upon  him  their  keenest  resentment.  But  let  Mr. 
James  Mill  outrage  the  conscience,  heart,  and  reason 
of  all  Christendom,  by  selecting  for  his  spite  and  con- 
tumely that  system  which  the  wise  and  good  of  all 
ages  have  venerated  for  its  supreme  purity,  tender- 
ness, and  beneficence  ;  and  he  is  to  be  tolerated  with  a 
scientific  equanimity,  if  not  positively  applauded  for  his 
candor !  This  is  one  specimen  of  the  dogmatism  of 
science  ;  a  fault  which  threatens  in  our  day  to  surpass 
the  imperious  bigotry  of  mediaeval  theology. 

Mr.  James  Mill's  system  of  psychology  is  extremely 
simple  and  perspicuous.  He  undertakes  to  construct  a 
complete  science  of  the  human  mind  and  will,  of  two 
elements  :  sensations  and  association.  And  this  attempt 
is  so  literal  as  to  omit  from  his  postulates  the  being  of 
mind  itself!  It  is  true,  that  he  is  sometimes  betrayed 
into  inconsistent  references  to  the  percipient  self;  for 
this  is  the  penalty  which  common  sense  exacts  of  all 
who  attempt  to  reject  her.  But  not  only  does  Mr.  Mill 
omit  all  definition  of  mind,  or  spirit,  as  substance,  and 
ignore  the  question  whether  it  is  immaterial  substance  : 
not  only  does  he  expressly  deny  all  a  priori  and  all 
necessary  powers  to  the  mind,  except  those  of  associa- 
tion ;  he  says  expressly,  that  the  affections  which  we 
term  states  of  mind,  are  the  mind.  A  sensation  is,  with 
him,  "  a  point  of  consciousness."  Such  "points  of  con- 
sciousness  compose  our  sentient  being"  (pp.  13,  17).  With 


54  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

him,  consciousness  is  but  another  name  for  all  the 
mind's  affections.  To  him,  our  feelings  are  our  conscious- 
ness. He  thus  rejects  all  reflective  character  in  con- 
sciousness, while  he  rejects  the  power  itself  from  the 
rank  of  a  faculty  (pp.  225,  226).  It  is  simply  the  general 
name  for  all  mental  affections  in  his  scheme,  and  in 
reality  amounts  to  no  more  than  a  passive  power  of 
sensibility  to  impression.  Again,  like  C&ndillac,  he  almost 
uniformly  calls  sensations  feelings.  Like  him,  he  begins 
his  analysis  of  the  bodily  senses  with  that  of  smell,  for 
the  very  purpose,  as  it  would  seem,  of  reducing  all  sen- 
sations, including  the  visual,  to  the  grade  of  a  smell,  a 
mere  impression  of  a  sensibility,  a  feeling,  as  distin- 
guished from  an  intellectual  notion.  (See  rjp.  71, 223,  224.) 
So,  ideas  directly  gained  by  sense-perception  are  also 
currently  called  "  feelings ;  "  and  the  only  description 
we  have  of  a  simple  idea  is,  that  it  is  a  trace,  or  "  copy 
of  a  single  sensation."  Everywhere,  ideas  are  "  copies 
of  sensations."  The  only  account  we  get  from  him  of 
the  perceptive  process,  is  that  "  a  copy  "  of  the  sensa- 
tional "feeling"  remains  in  the  mind  after  the  sensation 
has  gone  ;  and  that  copy  is  the  idea.  It  is,  of  course,  less 
vivid  than  the  "  feeling  "  of  which  it  is  a  copy. 

Another  radical  trait  of  Mr.  Mill's  system,  with  which 
the  reader  must  be  acquainted  from  the  first,  is  his  as- 
sumption (without  proof)  of  that  definition  of  cause 
which  makes  it  only  an  invariable  and  immediate  ante- 
cedent of  the  change  called  effect.  That  this  is  all  of 
the  rational  idea  of  cause — that  the  notion  of  power  in 
cause  is  an  illusion — is,  with  him,  a  maxim  neither  to 
be  debated  nor  questioned.  And  he  is  fond  of  asserting 
that  it  is  a  maxim  so  well  established  by  his  school, 
that  repectable  philosophers  have  ceased  to  debate  it. 
This  theory  of  causation  is  applied  everywhere  (and  as 
we  shall  see,  is  virtually  applied,  in  a  vicious  circle,  to 
prove  propositions  on  which  it  depends).  Thus,  in  ex- 
plaining the  origination  of  a  tactual  sensation,  the  whole 


Milfs  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       55 

is  accounted  for  as  antecedent  and  consequent  phenom- 
ena ;  the  organ  of  nervous  matter  and  tangible  mass 
being  the  antecedent ;  sensation  the  consequent.  Thus, 
the  true  cause  of  the  sensation,  soul,  is  quietly  left  out, 
the  whole  effect  being  in  the  sequence  of  changes  alone. 
"  The  expression,  '  I  feel  the  table,'  includes  both  the 
antecedent  and  consequent "  (p.  33).  And  the  proceed- 
ing of  the  argument  shows  that,  in  the  author's  view, 
the  expression  includes  nothing  more.  Again,  on  p.  51  : 
"  Sensation  exists  only  by  the  presence  of  the  object, 
and  ceases  upon  its  absence  ;  nothing  being  here  meant 
by  the  presence  of  the  object,  but  that  position  of  it 
with  respect  to  the  organ  which  is  the  antecedent  of 
sensation."  Thus,  by  cleaving  to  this  view  of  causation, 
in  its  baldest  literality,  soul  is  again  dropped  out,  as  the 
unseen  percipient  power,  and  nothing  remains  but  a 
pair  of  phenomena.  So,  in  the  definition  of  associated 
ideas,  we  are  taught  (p.  78) :  "  Our  ideas  spring  up,  or 
exist,  in  the  order  in  which  the  sensations  existed  of 
which  they  are  the  copies.  This  is  the  general  law  of 
the  'Association  of  ideas';  by  which  term,  let  it  be 
remembered,  nothing  is  here  meant  to  be  expressed  but  the 
order  of  occurrence"  And,  on  p.  81  :  "  Not  that  any 
power  is  supposed  to  reside  in  the  antecedent  over  the 
consequent ;  suggesting  and  suggested  mean  only  antecedent 
and  consequent,  with  the  additional  idea  that  such  order 
is  not  casual,  but,  to  a  certain  degree,  permanent." 

But  it  is  time  that  we  heard  Mr.  Mill  expound  the 
other  corner-stone  of  his  philosophy,  association  of 
ideas.  By  means  of  this  we  shall  see  him  create  every 
primitive  judgment,  every  a  priori  idea,  every  rational 
and  intellective  faculty,  and  all  the  powers  of  the  will. 
In  a  word,  his  theory  may  be  correctly  described  as  a 
literal  acceptance  of  the  statement  that  man  is  "a 
bundle  of  habits."  All  his  powers,  intellectual  and 
active,  are  resolved  into  certain  habits  of  associating 
things;  and  so  fully  does  he  hold  this,  as  to  leave  out 


56  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

of  the  account,  the  Being  which  is  qualified  by  the 
habits  ;  unless  that  be  a  u  bundle  of  nerves."  When  we 
note  how  ideas  follow  each  other  in  our  consciousness, 
we  perceive  that  they  do  not  come  at  haphazard.  As 
to  sensations,  it  is  the  presence  of  objects  which  dictates 
their  rise  ;  but  as  to  ideas,  their  order  depends  wholly 
upon  the  order  of  the  sensations  of  which  they  are 
copies.  Sensations  are  actually  in  the  mind,  synchro- 
nously, or  successively.  Hence  the  ideas  left  by  those 
sensations  which  were  present  synchronously,  recur 
synchronously;  and  the  ideas  of  those  sensations  which 
were  felt  successively,  recur  successively.  For  the 
whole  law  of  association  is  summed  up  in  this  :  that  we 
always  tend  to  have  former  processes  repeated  again 
as  they  first  affected  us.  Other  philosophers  have  fol- 
lowed Mr.  Hume,  in  accounting  the  ties  of  association 
as  not  only  previous  coexistence,  or  succession  ;  but 
also,  resemblance  of  ideas,  or  contrast,  and  cause  and 
effect.  Mr.  Mill  does  not  believe  that  contrast  is  any 
tie  of  association  at  all.  He  regards  our  association  of 
resembling  ideas  as  simply  an  instance  of  association  by 
coexistence.  And  he  rebukes  his  own  master,  Mr. 
Hume,  for  enumerating  cause  and  effect  as  a  distinct 
kind  of  tie  of  association,  because  they  both  hold  that 
cause  is  nothing  but  immediate  and  uniform  antecedent ; 
so  that  this  species  of  association  is  nothing  but  an  in- 
stance of  association  by  previous  succession.  [We  may 
mention,  as  a  specimen  of  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill's  partial  dissent 
from  his  father's  system,  that  the  son,  instead  of  resolv- 
ing association  of  resembling  ideas  into  a  case  of  asso- 
ciation by  coexistence,  does  just  the  reverse  :  he  con- 
siders every  association  by  coexistence  as  a  case  of 
resemblance.]  If  the  reader  asks,  what  interest  Mr. 
James  Mill  has  in  reducing  our  ties  of  association  to 
the  two  of  previous  coexistence  and  succession,  a  little 
reflection  will  show  him.  On  the  Sensualistic  scheme,  all 
It  priori ,ideas  and  powers  are  to  be  gotten  rid  of.  Hence, 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.      57 

the  phenomena  of  association  are  to  be  reduced  to  the 
most  mechanical  terms  possible.  And  especially  are 
functions  of  comparison  and  primitive  intuition  to  be 
denied,  at  the  basis  of  association.  But  now,  if  an 
original  tie  of  association  is  found  in  the  resemblance 
of  things,  this  must  imply  a  comparing  act,  as  in  order 
to  the  perception  of  resemblance.  For  how  can  resem- 
blance between  two  things  be  seen  without  comparing 
them  ?  And  does  not  an  act  of  comparison  imply,  as 
&  priori  to  its  performance,  a  middle  term,  between  the 
two  things  compared,  namely,  percipient  mind  ?  and 
must  not  this  intelligent  agent  be  regarded  as  endued 
beforehand  with  some  subjective  law  of  thought  regu- 
lative of  its  comparing  acts?  This  is  as  indisputable 
as  that  a  pair  of  scales  cannot  go  about  the  weighing 
of  masses  unless  they  have  been  furnished  with  a  stand- 
ard of  weights.  Here,  then,  we  should  have  that  thing 
so  inadmissible  to  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  a  reason 
endued  with  a  priori  principles  of  judgment.  Where- 
fore it  must  be  denied,  per  fas  aut  nefas,  that  one 
resembling  thing  can  originally  suggest  the  idea  of 
what  it  resembles.  So,  if  a  cause  should  suggest  its 
effect,  not  yet  experienced  in  sequence  ;  or  an  effect  its 
cause,  not  previously  seen  in  antecedence,  we  should 
have  unavoidably  another  judgment  hateful  to  the  sen- 
sualistic  thinker,  a  primitive  intuition  of  cause  and 
power.  Hence  the  denial  of  these  as  original  ties  of 
association. 

Two  other  remarks  will  complete  the  outline  of  Mr. 
Mill's  doctrine  of  associated  ideas.  He  attaches  great 
importance  to  this  assertion  :  that  when  trains  of  asso- 
ciated ideas  somewhat  long  have  frequently  passed  in 
the  mind,  the  attention  may  become  so  engrossed  by 
some  of  the  more  vivid  ideas  associated,  that  the  mind 
takes  less  and  less  note  of  the  less  vivid  intermediate 
links.  This  goes  on,  until  at  length,  in  passing  these 
trains  of  ideas  through  the  mind,  some  dimmer  links 


58  Sensiialistic  Philosophy. 

cease  to  be  noted  at  all,  or  apparently  drop  out  of  con- 
sciousness. As  links  for  bringing  in  the  associated 
ideas,  they  were  at  first  necessary  :  the  train  would  not 
have  passed  to  its  completion  without  them.  But  the 
mind  learns  by  practice  to  abridge  its  trains,  or,  so  to 
speak,  contract  its  associated  processes,  by  skipping 
the  unimpressive  links,  until  the  ordinary,  careless 
thinker  totally  forgets  how  the  associations  were  first 
formed.  Hence,  he  is  liable  to  misconceptions  con- 
cerning the  real  source  of  conceptions  and  other  com- 
plex trains,  and  falls  into  the  blunders  of  the  rational 
psychology,  such  as  inventing  a  priori  principles  to 
account  for  certain  judgments. 

The  other  doctrine  is,  that  ideas  which  are  very  fre- 
quently synchronous  or  successive  in  sensation,  and 
hence  also  very  frequently  so  in  idea,  come  to  be  asso- 
ciated with  a  corresponding  closeness.  Ideas  which 
represent  sensations  always  synchronous  or  immediately 
successive,  are  at  last  so  associated  together,  that  the 
association  appears  necessary.  This,  according  to  Mr. 
Mill,  is  the  explanation  of  all  beliefs  called  necessary, 
by  other  philosophers,  and  of  many  illusions  called  a 
priori  ideas. 

To  explain  the  manner  in  which  association  gener- 
ates our  mental  processes,  we  must,  says  Mr.  Mill, 
explain  the  nature  of  an  expedient  which  human  beings 
have  adopted  tor  their  own  convenience.  This  is  lan- 
guage ;  which  the  author  delights  to  characterize  as  the 
"  naming  "  of  ideas  ;  and  words  he  calls  "  marks  "  which 
we  put  upon  our  ideas.  Two  motives  prompt  men  to 
name:  One  is  the  desire  to  communicate  their  mental 
states  to  their  fellows  ;  the  other  is  the  desire  of  hav- 
ing a  help  for  themselves  in  associating  and  recalling 
and  dealing  with  their  own  ideas.  The  inferiority  of 
animals  to  man,  Mr.  Mill  thinks,  is  due  chiefly  to  their 
lack  of  concert  and  cooperation  in  their  endeavors; 
and  this,  again,  is  the  consequence  of  not  having  signs 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       59 

by  which  to  convey  their  feelings  to  their  fellows. 
Hence  we  see  the  importance  of  this  expedient  of  nam- 
ing. All  the  parts  of  speech  are  names.  Nouns  are 
names  of  sensations,  ideas,  and  clusters  of  ideas  united 
by  association,  and  of  classes  of  clusters.  Adjectives 
are  marks  put  upon  marks,  to  effect  subdivisions  among 
nouns./  Verbs  are  adjectival  words,  expressing  our 
sensations  or  ideas  of  actions.  Predication  is  nothing 
but  connecting  a  name  with  a  name  (or  a  mark  with  a 
mark)  for  the  purpose  of  affirming,  first  the  order  in 
which  we  had  the  sensations  named,  and  second,  of  af- 
firming the  equivalency  of  the  mark  predicated  with 
the  mark  of  the  subject.  Hence  the  extreme  Nominal- 
ist conclusion  is  drawn  which  we  saw  in  the  hands  of 
the  French  Sensualists  ;  that  propositions  assert  noth- 
ing but  the  identity  of  a  name  with  a  name ;  and  de- 
ductive reasoning  is  nothing  but  a  chain  of  mere  verbal 
equivalents.  The  simplest  thing  which  man  can  name  by 
a  noun,  is  a  single  sensation  (or  the  idea  which  is  the 
copy  thereof),  as  light,  heat,  weight.  Next,  groups  of 
sensations,  which  are  always  experienced  together, 
come  to  be  named,  for  the  sake  of  abbreviation,  by  a 
single  noun.  For  instance:  we  have,  always  synchro- 
nous, a  sensation  of  heat,  with  one  of  light,  upon  the 
presence  of  certain  antecedents.  We  call  the  object, 
fire.  We  have,  always  synchronously,  a  feeling  of  red, 
a  feeling  of  fragrance,  a  feeling  of  figure,  and  a  feeling 
of  extension  and  weight.  We  call  the  cluster  of  ante- 
cedents to  this  cluster  of  sensations,  rose.  We  say  "fire" 
"rose"  for  short,  as  men  say;  and  only  for  the  sake  of 
saving  the  trouble  of  naming  over  all  the  sensations. 
And  the  words,  u  fire"  "  rose"  really  mean  nothing  but  the 
antecedents  to  these  clusters  of  feelings.  (Mill's  definition 
of  general  terms  is  deferred  until  we  speak  of  the  proper 
notion  of  classification.) 

Thus  is  insinuated,  under  this  pretended  explanation 
of  the  nature  of  concrete  names,  the  rudimental  error 


60  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

of  Mill's  system.  This  is  the  tacit  denial  of  true  sub- 
stance. We  are  here  taught,  by  an  indirection,  that 
there  is  no  reality  answering  to  our  idea  of  substance ; 
a  doctrine  which,  as  we  shall  see,  ma  be:  made  to  lead 
to  the  scepticism  of  Hume,  the  idealism  of  Berkeley,  or 
the  virtual  nihilism  of  Hegel.  But  it  is  a  doctrine  neces- 
sary to  the  consistency  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy. 
Recall  its  first  principle  :  Nihil  in  intellectu,  quod  non 
prius  in  sensu.  Remember,  what  all  philosophy  con- 
cedes :  that  it  is  only  properties  of  bodies  of  which  we 
have  actual  sense  perception.  Then,  the  Sensualist  is 
bound  to  say,  the  mind  has  no  business  with  any  notion 
of  the  objective  cause  of  sensations,  except  the  notion 
of  a  cluster  of  properties.  For,  whence  has  the  mind  a 
right  to  the  additional  notion  of  a  subject  urn,  or  sub- 
stance, underlying  that  cluster  of  properties?  It  has 
touched,  smelt,  tasted,  heard,  seen,  only  the  properties : 
it  must  predicate  nothing  else.  The  rational  psychol- 
ogist answers:  When  sensation  gives  us  the  cluster  of 
properties,  the  law  of  the  reason,  upon  occasion  there- 
of, intuitively  and  necessarily  gives  us  the  notion  of  the 
subjectuin,  the  real  being ;  of  which  the  qualities  cog- 
nized by  sense  must  be  properties.  But  that  notion  is 
a  priori  to  sense-experience  as  to  its  source  (though  not 
as  to  the  occasion  of  its  rise),  and  the  Sensualistic  phi- 
losopher has  been  pleased  to  condemn  such  notions. 
Thus,  Mr.  Jas.  Mill  slyly  suggests  this  verbal  solution 
of  the  existence  of  this  baseless  belief  in  true  substance, 
harbored  by  common  sense.  Association  and  naming 
do  his  work  fof  him.  As  the  sensations  of  red,  sweet, 
round,  etc.,  are  always  synchronous,  when  the  cluster 
of  antecedents  called  "  rose,"  is  present,  so  the  ideas  arc 
inseparably  associated.  And  the  mind  having  invented 
the  summary  term  "  rose,"  for  that  cluster,  in  order  to 
save  itself  the  trouble  of  repeating  a  number  of  terms; 
this  name  and  this  cluster  of  sensations  become  indis- 
solubly  associated  together,  until  the  mind  learns  by 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       61 

habit  to  think  of  something  concrete  under  the  name  of 
"  rose,"  and  to  .attach  necessity  to  it.  In  consistency 
with  this  analysis,  the  elder  Mill  says  :  Our  sentient 
being  is  composed  of  points  of  consciousness.  And  the 
younger  Mill,  in  his  criticism  upon  Sir  William  Hamil- 
ton, says  that  the  only  notion  which  should  be  attached 
to  matter  is,  that  it  is  "  a  permanent  possibility  of  sen- 
sation." 

The  next  notion  of  the  mind  which  Mr.  Mill  exam- 
ines, is  conception.  We  remember  that  in  his  system 
an  idea  is  the  copy  or  trace  of  a  sensation.  A  concept, 
according  to  him,  is  a  complex  idea  affecting  the  mind 
without  the  immediate  antecedence  of  sensation.  De- 
parting from  the  established  meaning  of  the  term 
which  by  concept  signifies  some  idea  that  the  mind 
conceives,  or  produces  out  of  itself  from  a  seminal  germ, 
he  says  a  concept  is  a  notion  which  takes  several  sim- 
ple ideas  together  into  a  complex.  This  is  evidently 
false  nomenclature  ;  for  a  simple  idea  in  my  mind,  the 
bltieness  of  the  ocean,  which  I  saw  on  a  voyage,  may 
now  have  the  essential  quality  of  a  concept.  This  es- 
sential quality  is,  that  the  idea  of  blueness,  once  seen  in 
the  deep  sea,  is  now  of  subjective  origin  in  my  mind.  I 
see  no  water,  no  color  of  blue  at  this  time,  with  my 
eyes  ;  the  source  of  the  idea  is  no  longer  objective.  It 
is  true,  that  my  mind  was  aided  in  raising  the  idea 
again  out  of  itself,  by  the  association  of  ideas.  But  its 
present  source  is  subjective.  With  a  percept  I  am 
affected  from  without.  With  a  concept  I  affect  myself. 
This  subjective  power  is  the  very  one  which  sensualism 
desires  always  to  evade ;  for  it  is  difficult  to  allow  its 
existence  and  yet  deny  to  it  all  regulative  principles; 
and  any  regulative  principle  would  be  that  thing  so 
hateful  to  sensualism,  an  a  priori  law  of  thought.  Hence 
Mill  desires  to  suppress  the  subjective  activity  of  the 
mind  in  conception.  Hence  he  defines  a  conception  as 
a  complex  idea.  He  wishes  us  to  believe,  that  the  rise 


62  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

of  a  concept  in  the  mind  is  nothing"  but  the  return  of  a 
train  of  associated  ideas.  When  I  conceive  a  horse, 
says  he,  I  merely  revive  by  association  that  train  of 
sensations  of  color,  figure,  size,  fourfootedness,  etc., 
which  I  have  so  uniformly  had  synchronously.  There 
is  no  real  concrete  being  [as  we  come  to  imagine  from 
the  force  of  inseparable  associations]  cognized  by  the 
mind,  when  we  think  a  horse  ;  but  only  that  cluster  of 
simple  ideas  associated.  Here  again  we  have  the  bald- 
est nominalism. 

The  next  product  of  the  associating  faculty,  according 
to  Mr.  Mill's  scheme,  is  Imagination.  As  a  conception  is 
a  single  complex  idea,  so  an  image  is  a  train  of  asso- 
ciated ideas.  The  author  endeavors  strenuously  not  to 
see  that  constructive  or  creative  feature,  which  is  the 
proper  characteristic  of  every  product  of  the  imagina- 
tion. For,  the  peculiarity  of  the  work  of  this  faculty  is, 
that  the  mind,  acting  as  a  free-agent,  and  for  a  purpose 
or  end  of  its  own,  arranges  its  elemental  concepts  in 
connections  which  they  never  had  in  sensational  expe- 
rience. .  The  professional  man  for  a  utilitarian  end,  the 
poet  for  an  aesthetic  end,  sunders  the  previous  associa- 
tion of  elements  of  conception,  and  arranges  them  into 
new  wholes.  The  former  invents  a  new  hypothesis  ;  the 
latter  a  new  picture.  The  elements  never  were  asso- 
ciated in  that  order  by  any  previous  synchronism  or 
succession  in  those  minds  :  the  new  structure  is  a  con- 
struction, a  work  of  rational  will.  This  essential  feature 
of  the  power  of  imagination  Mill  weakly  attempts  to 
explain  away.  He  intimates  that  the  modification  of 
structure  is  merely  the  result  of  the  fading  out  of  asso- 
ciation of  the  links  least  interesting  to  the  attention,  in 
the  previously  associated  chain  of  ideas.  When,  for 
instance,  the  sportive  mind  imagines  as  its  military 
figure  "  a  hog  in  armor,"  closely-knit  links  of  association 
existed  all  the  way  along  the  chain  from  the  swine  to 
the  armor.  But  now,  the  attention  being  drawn  to  the 


Miir$  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       63 

ludicrous  combination  of  the  animal  and  trie  armor,  all 
else  fades  out  of  consciousness.  In  reply  to  this  pre- 
tended explanation,  I  ask,  first :  Could  there  have  been 
a  tie  of  association  between  the  two,  except  by  contrast? 
But  Mr.  Mill  denies  that  this  is  a  principle  of  associa- 
tion. Second:  What  is  attention?  It  involves  a  func- 
tion of  volition.  Thus,  the  constructive  feature  comes 
back  into  the  process.  The  sensualistic  analyst  has  a 
motive,  here  likewise,  for  falsifying  the  processes  of 
imagination.  If  it  is  allowed  to  be  the  intentional  work 
of  a  rational  free-agent,  then  that  agent  must  have,  in 
its  own  reason,  a  principle  of  arrangement  regulating 
the  construction,  independent  of  the  previous  associa- 
tions by  coexistence,  of  the  elements  of  conception.  In 
a  mechanical  construction,  the  conception  must  precede 
the  execution.  In  a  process  of  imagination,  the  mind 
works  with  its  own  ideas,  as  its  materials ;  and  here, 
again,  the  plan  must  precede  the  construction,  not  fol- 
low it.  But  here,  again,  we  meet  that  truth  which  Sen- 
sualism cannot  tolerate  ;  that  minds  may  have  &  priori 
principles  of  thought.  For,  obviously,  this  form  which 
volition  impresses  on  the  complex  of  ideas,  is  prior  in 
cause  to  the  result  which  is  produced,  and  therefore  it 
must  be  something  else  than  association. 

Classification,  according  to  Mr.  James  Mill,  is  an  act 
of  the  mind  which  is  purely  one  of  association.  We 
have  seen  how  names  are  invented  to  assist  the  recovery 
of  ideas  by  association.  The  same  principle  of  mind 
associates  the  idea  and  its  name,  so  that  either  suggests 
the  other.  The  sole  object  of  the  mind,  according  to 
Mill,  in  classifying  and  inventing  general  names,  is  to 
save  itself  the  trouble  of  repeating  too  many  specific 
names.  He  says  expressly  that,  if  our  memory  were  so 
strong  as  not  to  be  encumbered  by  a  multitude  of 
specific  names  more  than  by  a  few,  no  general  term 
would  ever  have  been  thought  of.  The  process  of 
forming  a  class  begins,  as  he  says,  thus  :  A  child  has 


64  Sensualist 'ic  Philosophy. 

applied  the  word  "foot "  to  one  of  his  extremities.  It 
and  the  name  mutually  suggest  each  other.  Seeing 
his  other  extremity  along  with  the  first,  association 
applies  the  name  "foot"  to  that  also.  Thus,  an  object 
and  an  object  suggests  a  name  ("  foot ")  and  its  repeti- 
tion ;  and  the  word  comes  to  stand  henceforward,  in 
his  association,  for  two  objects.  Thus  the  class  of 
"feet."  The  worthlessness  of  this  process  is  disclosed 
by  a  single  question  :  It  is  just  as  likely  that  the  child 
saw  his  right  foot  at  the  same  instant,  with  a  play-thing 
resting  against  it,  his  rattle,  say,  as  with  his  left  foot. 
Why,  then,  was  it  impossible  that  association  should 
make  him  apply  the  name  "foot,"  in  common,  to  one 
foot  and  the  rattle  ?  The  radical  element  was  lacking  ; 
resemblance :  the  rattle  and  the  right  foot  are  not 
related  by  resemblance,  as  are  the  right  and  left  foot. 
This  simple  instance  shows  that  it  is  not  the  conven- 
ience of  saving  repetitions,  alone,  which  prompts  us  to 
invent  and  use  general  terms  :  but  the  reason  distin- 
guishes thereby  the  important  perception  of  relations 
of  resemblance.  This  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  acknowledges, 
both  in  his  note,  correcting  his  father's  analysis  here, 
and  in  his  "  Logic."  This  unavoidable  concession  (as 
perhaps  the  astute  father  saw)  ruins  the  cause  of  Sen- 
sualism. For  we  now  have  these  facts  :  The  mind, 
upon  having  sense-perception  of  two  distinct  objects  : 
say,  two  human  feet,  also  has,  besides  the  two  sensa- 
sations,  a  cognition  of  relation.  Whence  the  latter  ? 
Either  of  the- feet  is  visible  and  tangible  ;  the  relation  is 
not.  There,  then,  is  a  supersensuous  cognition.  More- 
over, it  proves  that  the  mind  has  compared  the  two 
feet,  while  perceiving  them  by  sensation.  But  this  act 
is  impossible,  without  the  reason  as  a  middle  term,  or 
comparing  agent,  between  the  two  single  ideas.  Again, 
the  reason  refuses  this  cognition  of  relation  to  a  multi- 
tude of  pairs  of  objects,  and  only  gives  it  to  some  pairs. 
It  would  not,  in  the  child's  case,  give  it  to  the  foot  and 


MilFs  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       65 

the  rattle,  but  would  give  it  to  the  right  foot  and  the 
left  foot.  At  whose  bidding  ?  Not  at  the  bidding  of 
association  ;  for  the  same  occasion  existed,  in  synchro- 
nous observation,  in  both  cases.  The  reason,  then,  has 
a  law  of  its  own  for  judging  relations  ;  and  this  is  prior 
in  causation  to  the  sensations.  The  student  may  easily 
extend  this  refutation  to  a  number  of  similar  false  pro- 
cesses in  the  Sensualistic  philosophy. 

•Mr.  James  Mill's  method  of  resolving  everything  into 
association  having  been  illustrated  in  these  points,  his 
remaining  processes  may  be  almost  surmised  by  the 
reader.  Abstraction  is,  with  him,  a  somewhat  differ- 
ent result  of  association  and  naming.  We  meet,  among 
clusters  of  sensations,  the  same  simple  sensation  recur- 
ring frequently,  as  the  feeling  of  black  color,  in  black 
man,  black  horse,  black  coat,  etc.  Frequent  recurrence 
makes  the  association  more  vivid,  and  thus  we  are 
caused  to  note  this  quality,  common  to  the  black  man, 
horse,  and  coat,  more  than  other  qualities.  Wishing  to 
name  it  apart  from  the  clusters  in  which  it  recurs,  we 
add  the  syllable,  "  ness/'  and  make  "  blackness  ;  "  by 
which  we  signify  no  concrete  thing  that  is  black,  but 
this  quality  taken  out  of  all  of  them.  The  defect  of  this 
explanation  is,  that  it  leaves  out  the  act  of  comparison, 
cognizing  resemblance  in  the  objects  of  the  class,  and 
the  influence  of  voluntary  attention  upon  our  abstract- 
ing processes. 

Memory,  in  this  system,  is  nothing  but  a  complex 
case  of  association.  To  prove  this,  Mr.  Mill  reminds 
us  of  the  admitted  fact,  that  ideas  come  into  reminis- 
cence always  according  to  some  tie  of  association,  and 
that  we  always  seek  to  impress  ideas  upon  our  memory 
by  repeating  their  association  frequently.  But  there  is 
an  essential  feature  in  my  reminiscence  which  always 
distinguishes  it  from  other  ideas  arising  by  suggestion 
and  sensation  ;  and  this  is  the  assured  belief  that  I  have 
had  tliat  idea  before.  The  idea  is  not  only  in  conscious- 
5 


66  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ness,  but 'I  know  that  it  has  been  in  my  consciousness 
before.  Thus,  every  act  of  memory  involves  my  identity, 
my  notion  of  successive  time,  and  a  belief  that  seems  to 
be  intuitive.  Evidently,  I  cannot  determine  deductively 
the  validity  of  the  belief  that  this  idea  is  the  same  that 
was  before  in  my  own  consciousness  ;  because  there  is 
no  premise,  except  the  belief  itself,  from  which  I  can 
deduce.  But  Mr.  Mill  reduces  our  consciousness  of 
our  own  identity  to  a,  mere  result  of  an  association  be- 
tween two  consciousnesses  immediately  successive. 
He  also  reduces  our  notion  of  successive  time  to 
another  result  of  a  similar  association.  His  attempted 
explanation  of  the  belief  in  our  own  reminiscences  is, 
then,  as  follows :  When  an  idea  is  remembered,  it 
comes  because  it  is  associated,  probably  through  a 
number  of  links,  with  the  sensation  of  which  it  is  a 
"  copy."  That  sensation,  while  it  existed,  was  a  point 
of  our  consciousness  helping  "  to  compose  our  sentient 
being."  The  next  sensation  or  idea  following  it  was,  of 
course,  associated  therewith  by  the  law  of  immediate 
succession.  That  idea  was  also  "  a  point  of  conscious- 
ness," for  the  time  being.  The  two  together  constituted 
our  idea  of  self,  which  self-hood,  thus  generated,  is  also 
associated  with  the  first  idea.  So,  when  the  reminis- 
cence recurs,  constituting  again  the  feeling  of  identity, 
it  is  because  the  mind  has  rapidly  run  through  all  the 
intervening  associations  between  the  first  impression 
and  the  last  recollection  of  it,  carrying  back  the  idea  of 
self-hood  which  is  produced  between  every  pair  of 
links  in  this  chain  of  points  of  consciousness.  Mr.  Mill 
admits  that  this  process  is  complicated,  but  claims  that 
it  is  of  undoubted  correctness  ! 

Belief  is,  with  Mr.  Mill,  only  a  case  of  inseparable 
associations.  What  others  regard  as  necessary  beliefs, 
he  explains  as  simply  judgments  of  invariability  in  the 
associations  experienced.  Belief  of  propositions  is,  with 
him,  simply  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  the  predicate 


MiWs  Analysis  of  the  Hitman  Mind.       67 

names  the  same  thing  which  the  subject  names.  Of 
axiomatic  belief,  his  system  knows  nothing  ;  all  is  em- 
pirical, and  the  result  of  force  of  association. 

Those  rational  notions  which  other  philosophers  call 
a  priori,  he  accounts  for  much  after  the  fashion  of  Locke. 
We  have  seen  that  he  regards  our  idea  of  duration  as 
simply  the  result  of  an  observed  succession  in  our  own 
consciousnesses.  As  impression  follows  impression,  the 
relation  of  past,  present,  or  future  arises  simply  as  an 
association.  Combine  these  three  (by  association  again), 
and  the  three  abstracts,  "  pastness,  presentness,  and  fu- 
tureness,"  literally  compose  our  whole  idea  of  duration. 
Time,  then,  is  this  threefold  abstraction,  with  the  matter 
of  the  events  dropped  out.  Space  is  but  the  idea  of  exten- 
sion which  we  derive  from  a  muscular  sense,  emptied  by 
abstraction  of  its  accompanying  feeling  of  resistance. 
The  infinite  is,  with  him,  simply  the  indefinite  ;  or,  in 
other  words,  the  idea  of  an  aggregate,  with  the  idea  of 
still  another  increment  as  possible,  associated  with  it. 
The  cause  is  nothing  more  than  the  immediate  invari- 
able antecedent,  and  what  we  call  the  necessary  idea  of 
power  in  the  cause,  is  only  an  expression  for  our  inabil- 
ity to  separate  in  thought  an  association  between  a  pair 
of  phenomena  which  has  become  inseparable  by  constant 
recurrence  together.  Our  belief  in  our  own  mental 
identity  is,  with  Mr.  Mill,  also  a  result  of  experienced 
impressions  indissolubly  associated.  The  only  differ- 
ence between  his  belief  in  his  own  identity  and  that  of 
another  object  is,  that  in  the  first  case  the  data  of  asso- 
ciation are  given  by  consciousness,  and  in  the  second 
by  observation.  That  is,  a  man  does  not  know  that  his 
mind  is  the  same  any  otherwise  than  he  knows  that  the 
stone  is  the  same  upon  which  he  daily  steps  into  his 
home  !  When  we  remember  how  J.  S.  Mill  has  rigidly 
carried  out  his  father's,  principles  to  the  definition  of 
the  stone  as  nothing  more  than  "a  permanent  possibil- 
ity of  sensations,"  we  shall  appreciate  how  near  this 
system  comes  to  nihilism. 


68  Sensttalistic  Philosophy. 

Mr.  Mill's  theory  of  man's  active  powers  is  built  upon 
the  same  law  of  association,  with  the  assistance  of  an- 
other sensuous  fact.  Among  our  sensations,  some  are 
immediately  pleasurable,  and  some  painful.  By  the  law 
of  co-existence,  the  pleasure  or  the  pain  is,  of  course, 
associated  with  the  idea  of  the  impression.  Here  we 
have  the  key  to  the  whole  system  of  human  emotions 
and  volitions.  The  remembered  idea  of  an  impression 
which  was  pleasurable  when  experienced,  differs  from 
the  impression  itself,  in  that  the  pleasure  is  only  an 
idea  remembered,  instead  of  an  existing  pleasure.  This 
idea  of  the  pleasure,  as  associated  with  the  idea  of  the 
object  which  was  the  cause  of  the  pleasurable  impres- 
sion, is  desire.  So  the  remembered  pain,  as  associated 
with  the  idea  of  its  cause,  is  aversion.  In  like  manner, 
fear  and  hope  are  explained,  with  all  the  other  affec- 
tions. 

We  observe  experimentally,  that  some  acts  done  by 
ourselves  are  attended  by  pleasure,  or,  what  is  practi- 
cally the  same  thing,  the  avoidance  of  pain.  Now  the 
idea  of  experienced  pleasure  (associated  with  that  of 
the  cause),  is  desire.  So  the  idea  of  experienced  pleas- 
ure associated  with  the  idea  of  our  own  act  causing  it, 
is  motive  to  volition.  The  volition  always  follows  the 
stronger  motive.  Which  shall  be  the  stronger  motive 
depends  upon  two  things.  One  is  the  relative  vivid- 
ness of  the  pleasure  naturally  attending  the  sensation  ; 
the  other  is  the  intimacy  of  the  association  between  the 
act  and  the  pleasure,  resulting  from  frequent  repetition. 
Hence,  it  follows  that  moral  education  consists  simply 
in  establishing  desirable  associations  between  acts  and 
consequences,  by  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  right 
acts.  Disposition,  also,  is  nothing  but  habit.  The  dis- 
position to  a  given  volition  is  no  more  than  the  tend- 
ency to  recall  the  motive  to  it,  and  to  feel  it  the  stronger 
motive,  arising  from  frequent  association  of  the  execu- 
tion of  that  volition  and  the  pleasure. 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       69 

In  the  same  facile  way  Mr.  Mill  explains  all  the  ac- 
tions of  taste  and  ideas  and  emotions  of  sublimity  and 
beauty,  without  introducing  a'ny  other  aesthetic  prin- 
ciples than  sensuous  pleasures  and  pains.  Associations 
do  the  whole  work  of  taste,  by  representing  to  us  ob- 
jects or  ideas  which  once  caused,  or  can  cause,  certain 
kinds  of  pleasure.  Those  ideas  or  objects  which  sug- 
gest these  pleasures  raise  the  idea  of  beauty  or  sub- 
limity. 

We  are  now  prepared  to  understand  Mill's  theory  of 
the  will.  All  men  regard  volition  as  cause,  and  the 
muscular  movements  of  our  own  members  as  next 
effects  thereof.  Hence,  the  natural  way  to  approach 
the  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  will,  is  to  examine 
the  rise  of  our  muscular  movements.  We  find  then, 
first,  that  muscular  movements  are  often  produced  auto- 
matically, by  sensations;  as  when  a  certain  feeling  in 
the  nerves  of  the  nostrils  contract  the  diaphragm  and 
produce  sneezing,  or  the  flashing  of  a  bright  body  be^ 
fore  the  eyes  causes  involuntary  winking.  Now,  ideas 
are  copies  of  sensations ;  whence  we  learn  that  ideas, 
also,  may  direct  the  muscular  motions  of  the  members; 
as  when  thoughts  cause  men  to  move  or  gesticulate 
involuntarily.  We  are  thus  led  to  attribute  all  volun- 
tary movements  to  ideas  in  the  form  of  motives.  A 
motive  is  nothing,  as  he  supposes,  save  the  pleasure 
attending  a  certain  impression  associated  with  an  act 
of  our  own  as  cause,  or  immediate  antecedent.  Now, 
a  volition,  when  regarded  as  a  mental  act,  and  distin- 
guished from  the  muscular,  is  nothing  but  motive  domi- 
nant. It  is  not  correct  to  say  that  motive  leads  to  voli- 
tion, motive  is  volition  whenever  the  association  of 
pleasure  with  the  conceived  action  is  strong  enough  to 
engross  the  mind.  After  all,  then,  it  is  ideas  which 
move  the  muscles;  and  every  case  of  volition,  however 
conscious,  is  obviously  regarded  by  Mill  as  virtually 
automatic,  like  that  of  the  unconscious  winking  or  gest- 


70  Stnsnalistie  Philosophy. 

ure ;  save  that  the  idea  which  immediately  moves  the 
muscles  is  also  known  in  consciousness.  But  one  may 
ask,  if  ideas  of  actions  and  resultant  pleasures  associated 
immediately  move  the  muscles,  does  not  the  will  exer- 
cise a  self-determination  over  the  rise  of  the  ideas?  No, 
says  Mr.  Mill.  The  advocates  of  self-determination 
know  that  we  cannot  directly  will  an  idea  into  recollec- 
tion;  because  volition  implies  that  the  object  thereof 
must  be  already  in  the  consciousness.  Hence,  ideas 
must  come  as  the  laws  of  suggestion  bring  them.  These 
philosophers  suppose,  however,  that  the  power  of  atten- 
tion modifies  the  suggestions,  by  brightening  the  ties 
leading  on  to  the  desiderated  ideas.  But  Mill  supposes 
that  he  has  banished  volition  wholly  from  the  mental 
phenomenon  of  attention,  by  asserting  that  the  only  cause 
that  can  give  brightness,  prominency,  or  permanency 
to  any  suggestive  tie,  is  the  pleasurableness  of  the  ob- 
jective idea,  and  not  the  subjective  power  of  the  mind. 
Thus,  all  real  free-agency  is  hunted  from  the  last  resting- 
place  in  the  human  soul.  As  in  the  original  scheme  of 
Hobbes,  the  soul  is  the  helpless  slave  of  outward  im- 
pressions and  of  habits.  The  objective  inducement  is 
confounded  with  motive,  motive  is  confounded  with 
volition.  The  soul's  seeming  act  of  choice  is  described 
as  being  just  as  purely  the  automatic,  physical  result 
of  the  impressions  given  from  without  in  sensation  and 
association,  as  is  the  pain  of  a  blow  of  the  impact  of  the 
bludgeon.  How  can  this  system  be  redeemed  from  a 
stark  fatalism  which  would  reduce  man's  free-agency 
to  a  cheating  illusion?  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill,  in  the  conclusion 
of  his  "  Logic,''  gives  us  this  evasion,  borrowed  from  a 
brief  suggestion  of  his  father.  If  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect  were  what  we  believed  it,  a  tie  of  efficient 
power  between  the  immediate  antecedent  and  its  conse- 
quent, and  if  volitions  were  in  that  sense  caused,  then, 
says  J.  S.  Mill,  the  necessitarian  system  would  be  un- 
avoidable. But  the  mind  is  not  entitled  to  any  such 


MiWs  Analysis  of  the  Hitman  Mind.       71 

intuition  as  that  of  power  in  the  cause.  The  true  doc- 
trine of  causation  is,  that  the  cause  is  merely  the  imme- 
diate invariable  antecedent.  There  is  no  foundation 
for  any  notion  of  necessity  in  a  cause,  except  the  un- 
broken uniformity  of  the  association.  By  this  way,  he 
thinks  he  escapes  the  iron  result  of  fatalism.  Having, 
by  one  philosophical  heresy,  robbed  man  of  his  free- 
agency,  he  endeavors  to  restore  it  by  another. 

The  way  is  now  prepared  to  understand  the  moral 
theory  of  the  Mills.  Mr.  James  Mill  sums  up  all  vir- 
tues under  four  heads  :  prudence,  fortitude,  justice,  and 
benevolence.  The  first  two  are  duties  to  ourselves,  the 
last  two  to  our  neighbors.  The  only  motives  which 
this  system  knows  are  the  ideas  of  pleasure  or  pain 
as  associated  with  acts,  the  causes  thereof.  Experi- 
ence teaches  us  that  some  acts  directly  cause  pleasure 
to  ourselves  or  prevent  pain,  while  others  cause  pain 
or  prevent  pleasure.  These  two  classes  are  the  good 
and  the  evil.  The  natural  desire  of  good  teaches  us  tj 
seek  the  one  and  avoid  the  other.  Hence,  nothing  is 
needed  but  experience  and  association  to  form  the  habit 
of  considering  beforehand  how  acts  will  effect  our  en- 
joyment. The  habit  of  thus  considering  is  the  virtue 
of  prudence.  Experience  also  teaches  that  some  acts 
which  are  at  first  pleasurable,  result  in  a  greater  ulti- 
mate pain ;  and  some,  which  are  at  first  painful,  yet 
cause  a  greater  ultimate  pleasure.  Association,  by  the 
aid  of  habit,  again  couples  the  greater  pleasure  with 
the  act  at  first  unpleasant;  and  the  vivid  presence  and 
influence  of  that  association  becomes  the  virtue  of  forti- 
tude, including  self-denial. 

It  is  by  association,  also,  that  the  pleasures  and  pains 
of  others  become  agreeable  or  disagreeable  to  us.  They 
remind  us  of  our  own  pleasures.  It  is  pleasant  to  us  to 
see  others'  pleasures,  simply  because,  by  suggestion, 
they  remind  us  of  our  own.  Thus,  all  acts  of  justice 
and  benevolence,  the  nature  of  which  is  to  be  promotive 


72  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

or  conservative  of  others'  pleasures,  come  into  the  cat- 
egory of  the  good  things.  It  is  the  same  association 
which  generates  that  pleasant  sentiment  called  appro- 
bation. When  we  are  spectators  of  acts  of  benevolence 
or  justice,  the  spectacle  is  pleasing,  simply  because  the 
advantage  done  in  them  to  others  is  associated  with 
our  own  similar  advantage.  That  pleasure  is  our  ap- 
probation for  others'  good  deeds.  When  we  clo  acts 
of  justice  and  benevolence  to  others,  association  also  re- 
minds us  of  their  approbation  towards  us  as  generated 
in  the  same  way.  And  this  is  the  account  of  our  moral 
sentiments  given  by  this  philosophy,  I  only  remark 
here,  in  order  to  indicate  its  defects,  that  it  is  radically 
a  selfish  system,  resolving  the  whole  idea  of  good  into 
mere  advantage;  that  it  mutilates  the  definition  of  vir- 
tue by  omitting  classes  of  righteous  principles  of  essen- 
tial importance,  such  as  truth,  godliness,  and  disinter- 
estedness ;  that  it  utterly  fails  even  to  conceive  the 
true  nature  of  the  moral  motive;  and  that,  with  the 
real  problem  of  the  nature  of  moral  obligation,  the  in- 
tuitive imperative  of  conscience,  it  does  not  even  pre- 
tend to  grapple. 

Such  is  a  brief,  but  I  believe  a  faithful  sketch  of  a 
most  influential  system,  which  may  be  correctly  named 
Philosophia  Milliana,  and  which  has  been  taught  by 
the  father  and  son  with  great  and  disastrous  effect 
since  1829.  This  is  the  date  of  the  appearance  of  Jas. 
Mill's  Analysis.  In  several  respects,  the  son,  J.  S.  Mill, 
has  recoiled,  in  his  Logic,  and  other  works,  from  the 
bold  and  hardy  consistency  of  the  father's  errors.  T'he 
son  does  not  attempt  to  build  a  system  of  logic  upon 
the  father's  ultra-nominalism.  He  does  not,  like  James 
Mill,  attempt  to  construct  generalizations  without  com- 
parison. He  is  perspicacious  enough  to  recoil  from  the 
absurdity  of  a  memory  without  a  judgment  of  self- 
identity  a  priori  to  it.  But  still  J.  S.  Mill  is  doubtless 
to  be  held,  in  the  main,  a  Sensualistic  thinker.  Even  in 


Milfs  Analysis  of  the  Hitman  Mind.       73 

his  Logic,  which  need  not  have  led  him  into  such  ques- 
tions, he  commits  himself  to  the  distinctive  principles 
of  that  system.  He  denies,  for  instance,  that  the  mind 
has  any  valid  cognition  of  substance,  because  it  obvious- 
ly has  not  sense-perception  of  it.  He  adopts  the 
vicious  theory  of  causation,  making  it  nothing  more 
than  constant,  immediate  sequence.  He  denies  that 
any  intuitive  judgments  are  axiomatic.  He  recognizes 
no  propositions  as  established,  save  those  which  are 
established  empirically. 

The  most  of  my  criticisms  upon  the  system  of  the 
Mills  will  be  deferred,  until  other  forms  of  the  Sensual- 
istic  philosophy  are  traced,  and  we  are  thus  prepared 
to  refute  them  together.  A  few  remarks  are  now  of- 
fered upon  some  points  of  this  Analysis  of  the  mind, 
such  as  are  either  especially  appropriate  to  it,  or  con- 
venient at  this  stage. 

The  scheme  of  Mill,  like  that  of  Hartley,  of  which  it 
borrows  its  main  points,  deserves  to  be  called  the  phi- 
losophy of  association.  Beginning  with  the  two  men- 
tal functions  of  sensation  and  ideas  (the  copies  of  sen- 
sations), Mill  constructs  every  power  of  the  mind  from 
these,  by  processes  of  association,  with  the  act  of 
"  naming,"  which  is,  according  to  him,  an  expedient  of 
the  associative  faculty.  It  may  be  said  that  he  strips 
the  mind  of  all  original  faculties,  except  the  two  of 
sensation  and  association.  Now  the  laws  of  associa- 
tion are  most  important,  and  they  doubtless  combine 
with  and  modify  the  other  faculties,  both  intellectual 
and  active,  in  very  interesting  modes.  Mill,  like  Hart- 
ley, calls  our  attention  to  many  instructive  facts  and 
traits  of  suggestion.  But  it  is  a  sheer  delusion  to  at- 
tempt to  construct  the  powers  of  the  mind  wholly  out 
of  a  single  accident  qualifying  it.  The  original  princi- 
ples of  the  soul  are  doubtless  susceptible  of  this  law  of 
habit,  called  association,  the  simplest  expression  for 
which  is,  the  tendency  of  the  soul  to  repeat  its  own 


74  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

operations.  But  must  there  not  be  powers  to  operate,  in 
order  that  they  may  experience  this  law  of  habit?  The 
question  is,  What  are  those  original  powers?  As  in 
mechanics  or  physics,  a  force  must  exist,  in  order  to  be- 
come the  subject  of  any  regular  method  ;  so  in  psychol- 
ogy, the  faculty  must  be  given,  in  the  mind,  in  order 
to  come  under  this  mental  habitude  called  suggestion, 
or  association.  This  principle  -simply  repeats,  it  does 
not  create.  It  connects  what  has  been  produced  by 
other  faculties ;  thus  providing  for  the  preservation, 
ordering,  and  reproduction  of  these  stores. 

The  chief  illusion  of  Mr.  Mill  is  his  doctrine  of  in- 
separable association.  This  error  is  indeed  the  corner- 
stone of  his  structure.  Ideas,  he  thinks,  become  so 
connected  by  constant,  synchronous,  or  successive  oc- 
currence in  the  mind,  that  their  association  becomes 
indissoluble,  without  any  other  ground  for  that  result. 
This  is  his  solution  for  all  necessary  truths.  The  only 
reason  why  we  cannot  help  thinking  a  concrete  sub- 
stance in  the  rose,  for  instance,  is  the  fact  that  the  sen- 
sations of  color,  form,  and  fragrance,  which  we  call 
properties  of  that  substance,  have  been  so  constantly 
seen,  smelled,  and  handled  together,  that  their  associa- 
tion has  become  inseparable.  The  only  reason  why 
the  mind  seems  necessitated  to  think  of  a  given  effect 
as  arising  out  of  the  power  of  its  proper  cause,  is,  that 
we  have  so  uniformly  experienced  the  two  phenomena 
in  sequence,  that  we  cannot  possibly  separate  them 
from  association  in  thought.  If  this  doctrine  of  insep- 
arable association  is  baseless,  Mill's  whole  system  falls 
into  ruins.  But  the  refutation  of  the  doctrine  is  found 
in  two  familiar  facts,  either  of  which  is  fatal  to  it. 
First:  oftentimes,  the  most  inseparable  associations  are 
generated  without  frequent  concurrences  of  the  ideas, 
yea,  by  one  single  instance.  The  traveler  experiences, 
once  in  his  life  only,  the  disastrous  effects  on  his  health 
of  eating  the  manioc  (or  Mandioca)  root  of  tropical 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       75 

America.  He  had  used  it  without  expressing  the  poi- 
sonous juice.  Afterwards  he  sees  others  eat  it,  when 
properly  prepared,  and  eats  it  himself  a  thousand  times 
with  impunity  and  benefit.  Yet  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
he  can  never  think  of  those  torments  of  body,  without 
connecting  them  with  that  root  as  cause.  How  came 
this,  which  Mr.  Mill  would  call  inseparable  association, 
without  repetition?  Again,  multitudes  of  instances 
exist  in  which  our  ideas  have  been  universally  con- 
nected in  a  certain  way,  without  a  single  experienced 
variation,  and  yet  the  separation  of  the  two  ideas  in- 
variably associated  hitherto  is  perfectly  easy.  The 
citizen  of  tropical  America  had  never,  in  all  his  life, 
seen,  felt,  or  tasted  water,  except  in  the  liquid  state- 
But  it  is  perfectly  easy  for  him  to  accept  authentic 
testimony  which  assures  him  that  in  the  frigid  regions 
men  walk  and  ride  on  water  solidified.  The  rustic  has 
never  seen  a  human  figure,  except  as  formed  of  flesh. 
The  moment  he  sees  a  marble  statue,  he  comprehends, 
with  perfect  facility,  the  nature  of  the  object.  Tt  thus 
appears  again,  that  invariable  association  of  ideas  has 
begotten  no  necessary  judgment  whatever.  The  lesson 
which  we  derive  from  these  instances  is,  that  there  is 
something  deeper  than  mere  association,  at  the  root  of 
such  truths.  What  is  it?  An  intuition,  which,  how- 
ever given  in  the  mind  upon  occasion  of  our  experience 
of  certain  impressions,  is  yet  independent  thereof  for 
its  validity.  We  refer  properties  to  substance,  effect  to 
cause,  not  because  the  ideas  happen  to  have  always 
risen  together;  but  because  there  is  a  reason  in  the 
laws  of  the  mind  itself,  why  they  must  rise  together. 

Having  exposed  this  common  error  of  Mill's  analysis, 
I  proceed  to  point  out  some  specific  ones :  selecting 
such  as  illustrate,  by  their  refutation,  important  truths 
of  philosophy.  First,  it  is  instructive  to  see  in  the 
Mills,  how  the  most  objective,  and,  as  they  boasted,  the 
most  experimental  of  theories,  by  adopting  the  proton- 


76  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

pscndos  of  sensualism,  has  reached  the  extreme  result  of 
idealism.  The  mind,  says  Mill,  is  entitled  to  no  cogni- 
tions save  those  which  come  from  sensation.  Hence, 
we  may  admit  objective  properties,  but  not  objective 
substances.  We  are  conscious  of  impressions  and  ideas 
which  are  copies  thereof;  but  we  are  not  directly  con- 
scious of  spirit.  Therefore,  we  must  define  our  sen- 
tient being  as  "composed  of  points  of  consciousness;  " 
and  what  the  world  calls  objective  matter,  as  only  "a 
permanent  possibility  of  sensation."  Thus  mind  and 
matter  both  vanish  into  two  trains  of  impressions.  But 
the  reason  now  insists  upon  this  question  :  Impressions 
upon  what  ?  Upon  an  objective  reality  ?  According  to 
Mill,  No.  Upon  a  subjective  reality  ?  Again  he  must 
say,  No.  Where,  then!  are  we  left?  Again:  if  con- 
sciousness tells  us  that  we  cannot  know  real  substance 
apart  from  its  properties,  she  tells  us  as  absolutely,  that 
we  cannot  know  properties,  save  as  the  properties  of  a 
subjectum.  The  two  cognitions  are  bound  together  in 
an  adamantine  relation  by  the  very  necessity  of  our 
form  of  thought.  If  wre  think  either  substance  or  prop- 
erty, we  are  obliged  to  think  them  thus.  So  that  if  our 
cognition  of  subject  is  invalid,  a  valid  cognition  of 
properties  is  also  impossible.  Where,  then,  are  we  left  ? 
Without  either  real  object,  real  subject,  or  any  real 
cognition  ;  on  the  dreary  coast  of  that  ocean  of  Nihil- 
ism to  which  the  idealism  of  Hegel  passed,  and  in 
which  the  empirical  philosophy  of  Hume  perished  in 
the  blank  of  universal  scepticism.  No  better  proof  of 
the  falsehood  of  Mr.  Jas.  Mill's  analysis  can  be  present- 
ed, than  that  it  led  his  son  to  a  definition  of  the  objec- 
tive so  preposterous  and  self-contradictory.  It  is  only 
"  a  permanent  possibility  of  sensations  "  for  us.  But  if 
the  reason  has  any  judgment  from  any  source,  it  is  that 
permanency  only  belongs  to  real  being.  For  what  is 
permanency  but  perfect  continuity  of  being?  That 
which  is  only  in  posse  cannot  have  permanency  :  there 


Mi  IPs  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.         77 

is  yet  nothing  to  subsist  in  continuity.  The  very  fact 
that  our  experience  shows  us  the  objective  as  a  perma- 
nent cause  of  impressions  upon  our  consciousness,  is  a 
sufficient  proof  that  the  objective  is  real. 

In  the  third  place,  I  would  show  you,  that  upon  this 
theory  of  the  mind,  knowledge  would  be  impossible. 
The  Mills  define  sensation  as  simple  feeling ;  and  the 
ideas  which  are  copies  of  the  sensations,  are  also  feel- 
ings. Vol.  I.,  p.  224:  "  Sensations  and  Ideas  are  both 
feelings.  When  we  have  a  sensation,  we  feel,  or  have  a 
feeling :  when  we  have  an  idea,  we  feel,  or  have  a  feel- 
ing." Note,  again,  that  they  define  consciousness  as  a 
generic  name  for  all  the  feelings  with  which  the  mind 
is  affected,  and  identical  with  them.  See  pp.  224-226. 
Mill  here  repeats  with  unmistakable  clearness  that,  as 
the  words.  "  We  have  a  sensation ;  have  an  idea ;" 
mean  only,  "  we  feel ;  "  so,  to  be  conscious  of  a  sensa- 
tion, or  an  idea,  means  precisely  the  same  thing.  The 
only  difference  between  consciousness  and  the  other 
terms,  sensation,  thought,  desire,  etc.,  is,  that  conscious- 
ness is  the  general  name,  describing  the  whole  class,  of 
which  these  other  names  are  sub-divisions.  The  school 
of  Mill,  Prof.  Bain,  and  J.  S.  Mill,  while  quoting  Ham- 
ilton, yet  repudiate  his  definition  of  consciousness,  as 
the  "  condition  "  of  our  mental  operations,  or  as  "  the 
recognition  by  the  mind,  or  ego,  of  its  own  acts  and 
affections."  According  to  Mill  and  his  school,  con- 
sciousness, being  identical  with  sensations  and  ideas, 
which  are  feelings  simply,  is  itself  simply  a  feeling. 
This  unavoidable  conclusion  they  expressly  accept. 

Now,  then  :  how  does  any  veritable  cognition  ever 
come  into  the  mind  ?  Every  person  recognizes  a  radi- 
cal difference  between  feeling  and  knowing.  The  dif- 
ference is  closely  analagous  to  that  between  caloric  and 
light.  From  illuminated  bodies,  they  usually  come  to- 
gether ;  heat  in  light.  But  from  a  black  iron  stove, 
caloric  comes  alone  ;  and  it  is  dark.  So,  if  feeling  could 


78  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

come  without  cognition,  it  would  bring  no  idea  ;  it 
would  be  dark.  How,  then,  with  a  consciousness  which 
is  only  feeling,  and  mental  states  which,  in  their  rudi- 
ments, are  also  feelings  only  ;  how  does  any  intelligence 
ever  dawn  in  man?  The  truth  is,  an  intelligent  con- 
sciousness, a  consciousness  which  is  originally  some- 
thing more  than  feeling,  is  the  necessary  condition  of 
feeling  itself.  As  in  the  solar  rays,  the  caloric  comes  in 
the  light;  so  in  man's  soul,  feeling  comes  in,  or  by 
means  of,  knowing.  Hence  it  is  clear  that  Mill's  sys- 
tem, in  reducing  both  mental  affections  and  conscious- 
ness to  feelings,  would  make  intelligence  impossible. 
A  man  may  have  an  idea  of  a  simple  feeling:  he  may 
have  an  idea  of  the  pain  which  last  week  affected  his 
nerves.  This  fact  seems  to  have  deceived  Mr.  Mill:  he 
would  reason  from  it ;  if  we  have  an  idea  of  our  past 
pain,  what  other  source  is  there  for  this  cognition  than 
the  feeling  ?  Then  simple  feeling  may  give  knowledge. 
I  reply :  there  is  no  other  objective  source  ;  but  there 
is  another  subjective  source,  namely,  an  intelligent  (not 
a  mere  sentient)  consciousness  of  the  past  affection, 
given  back  to  us  in  memory.  Deny  this,  and  an  idea 
of  a  pain  is  as  impossible  as  an  idea  of  abstractions  would 
be. 

The  truth  is,  that  consciousness  is  not  a  feeling,  but  an 
intellection.  It  is  purely  an  intellection,  as  the  faculty 
itself  tells  us ;  and  therein  is  its  grand  characteristic  ; 
its  total  difference  from  feelings  and  volitions.  It  is 
this  fact,  that  every  act  of  consciousness  is,  in  its  rudi- 
ment, purely  and  solely  an  intellection  as  'opposed  to  a 
feeling,  which  is  the  very  condition  of  human  intelli- 
gence. That  consciousness  is  always  an  intellection 
(even  when  the  mental  modification  referred  by  the  ego 
to  itself  is  a  feeling),  is  well  stated  by  Hamilton,  amidst 
the  inconsistencies  into  which  he  is  plunged  by  his  per- 
sistent effort  to  criticize  Reid's  doctrine  concerning 
consciousness.  Let  us  turn  aside  here,  to  correct  these 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       79 

errors.  The  essence  of  Reid's  view  is,  that  conscious- 
ness is  an  intuitive  faculty,  the  acts  of  which  usually 
attend  all  the  operations  of  all  other  powers  of  soul, 
giving  us  the  cognition,  that  they  are  modifications 
of  the  self,  or  ego.  Hamilton,  after  virtually  adopting 
this  view,  as  is  unavoidable  to  him  who  fairly  observes 
his  own  mind,  modifies  it  in  a  certain  degree,  in  the 
erroneous  direction  of  the  Mills ;  arguing  at  great 
length,  that  all  cur  "  special  faculties  of  knowledge  are 
only  modifications  of  consciousness."  (Lect.  12).  There 
is  a  sense  in  which  Reid's  view  includes  this  statement, 
viz. :  that  all  our  "  special  faculties,"  not  only  of  knowl- 
edge, but  of  feeling,  operate  usually  in  and  under  con- 
sciousness ;  and  that  it  is  only  when  they  do  this,  that 
they  furnish  any  materials  of  knowledge  to  us.  But 
Hamilton  seems  to  claim  more  ;  virtually  to  identify 
consciousness  and  all  our  special  faculties  of  knowledge. 
This  is  an  error.  First,  because  we  are  conscious  of 
feelings  as  immediately  as  of  thoughts.  If  conscious- 
ness is  the  same  modification  of  mind  with  that  modifi- 
cation which  is  its  object,  then,  in  this  case,  conscious- 
ness is  a  feeling.  But  Hamilton  admits  that  conscious- 
ness is  always  an  intellection.  It  is  true,  that  he  is 
more  cautious  than  the  Sensualistic  school,  limiting  his 
identification  of  consciousness,  so  as  to  make  it  the  same 
with  our  "  special  faculties  of  knowledge  "  onjy.  But 
this  is  a  plain  inconsistency.  For  how  do  we  become 
aware  of  our  feelings?  Only  by  consciousness.  To  be 
consistent,  he  should  include  all  our  special  faculties  of 
feeling  also  under  consciousness,  as  Mill  does.  Second. 
Hamilton  teaches  (and  illustrates  with  unusual  perspi- 
cuity) the  fact  that  the  mind  is  affected  with  modifica- 
tions which  are  out  of  consciousness.  But  if  conscious- 
ness is  coincident  with  all  those  modifications,  this  is  a 
contradiction.  If,  for  instance,  perception  is  only  a 
mode  of  consciousness,  to  have  a  perception  and  not 
be  conscious  of  it,  is  as  clearly  absurd  as  to  have  an  un- 


8o  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

felt  feeling  (which  even  Mill  gives  up  as  a  contradic- 
tion.) 

But  to  return  :  we  have  seen  that  upon  Mill's  analysis, 
cognition  would  be  impossible*;  we  might  have  impres- 
sions, but  no  sense-perceptions,  no  ideas.  And  I  call 
your  attention  to  this  result,  in  order  to  show  how  in- 
evitably the  sensualist  misunderstands  (as  he  must)  the 
real  nature  of  perception.  Leaving  the  conscious,  that 
is,  the  intelligent  ego,  out  of  his  analysis,  he  renders 
ideas  impossible.  Let  me  quote  here  an  instructive 
passage  from  Cousin's  criticism  of  the  parallel  attempt 
of  Condillac :  "  In  order  that  the  feeling  may  be  trans- 
formed into  sense-perceptions,  the  action  of  an  internal 
agent  must  correspond  and  be  joined  to  that  of  the  ex- 
terior forces ;  from  that  double  action  springs  sense-per- 
ception. Suppress  the  action  of  the  objects,  there  is 
no  feeling,  and  the  sense-perception  is  impossible.  Sup- 
press, on  the  other  hand,  a  certain  action  of  the  ego 
(which  it  is  not  just  now  our  business  to  determine) 
and  there  is  feeling,  but  not  sense-perception.  It  can- 
not be  otherwise.  In  fact,  that  which  characterizes 
perception  and  distinguishes  it  from  feeling,  is  that  the 
ego  has  consciousness  of  it.  That  must  be  well  under- 
stood. It  is  the  knot  of  the  difficulty.  It  is  the  very 
point  of  the  question.  Either  there  is  a  sense-percep- 
tion, or  there  is  not.  If  there  is,  it  is  felt,  it  is  perceived  ; 
the  subject  who  experiences  it  has  consciousness  of  it. 
If  not,  there  is  no  sense-perception ;  or  if  one  will  use 
the  word  sensation,  it  signifies  only  an  impression  not 
felt,  not  perceived,  and  without  consciousness.  Now, 
I  say,  that  what  the  object  produces  is  not  perception 
—  a  phenomenon  in  reality  very  complex  —  it  is  only 
feeling." 

To  get  an  idea  from  this  mere  impression  -on  sensibil- 
ity, we  must  invoke  consciousness,  the  a  priori,  innate, 
fundamental  faculty  of  intelligence.  It  is  only  as  con- 
sciousness refers  the  impression  to  self,  intelligent  sub- 


Mill's  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       81 

ject,  that  idea  arises.  Without  this  subjective  act  of 
intelligence,  there  would  be  only  feeling,  in  the  dark. 
With  it,  there  is  light.  The  intelligence,  conscious  of 
its  own  modification  in  sensation,  and  conscious  that  it 
is  not  self  caused  by  a  volition  from  within,  is  neces*si- 
tated  by  its  own  original,  rational  law  to  impute  this 
effect  felt  in  consciousness  to  an  outward  cause ;  and 
that,  a  cause  which  has  real  being.  This  rational  law 
is  no  other  than  that  which  necessitates  our  inferring 
an  efficient  cause  for  every  change  ;  the  great  constitu- 
tive norm  of  the  human  reason.  There  is  thtis,  at  the 
root  of  every  sense-perception,  a  judgment ;  and  to 
this  judgment  intelligent  self  contributes  the  essential 
part.  Thus  we  see  that  Mill  explains  the  simple  by  the 
complex.  He  regards  judgment  as  the  complex  result 
of  associated  sensations ;  whereas  the  true  philosophy 
makes  judgment  the  rudimental  act  of  intelligence,  uni- 
versally present  as  an  element  in  all  its  varied  processes. 
It  is  this  judgment  which  at  once,  and  in  the  same  act, 
refers  sensation  to  conscious  self  as  subject,  and  to 
really  existent  object  as  cause,  which  gives  us  percep- 
tion. Thus  we  explain  the  rise  of  ideas  in  the  mind 
out  of  mere  impressions,  and  the  conviction  of  the  re- 
ality of  the  external  world  ;  and  we  are  guided  safely 
between  sensualism  on  the  one  hand,  and  idealism  on 
the  other. 

When  we  pass  from  perception  to  conception,  we 
find  in  the  theory  criticised  a  similar  error.  Mr.  Mill 
perpetually  describes  ideas  as  "copies  of  our  sensa- 
tions." When  an  idea  re-appears  in  conception  without 
the  original  sensation  again  present,  how  are  we  to 
know  that  it  appears  unchanged  ?  The  true  answer 
is,  that  the  intuitive  power  of  memory  here  comes  in, 
verifying  to  us  by  comparison  between  the  present  and 
the  past  intellections  of  the  idea,  its  unchanged  truth. 
But  of  this,  the  only  possible  solution,  these  philoso- 
phers cannot  avail  themselves,  because  they  hold  that 
6 


82  .      Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

memory  is  itself  a  result  of  association  between  ideas 
in  conception.  The  effect  cannot  be  called  upon  to 
assist  in  the  creation  of  its  own  cause. 

The  inadequacy  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  may 
also  be  illustrated  by  the  defects  of  its  theory  of  lan- 
guage. The  main  features  of  that  theory  we  have  seen 
re-appearing  in  all  the  writers  criticised  ;  in  Condillac 
and  Helvctius,  and  now  more  perspicuously  stated  by 
Mill.  Language,  according  to  him,  is  an  expedient 
which  man  invents  at  the  prompting  of  two  wants:  the 
need  of  communicating  his  ideas  to  others,  and  the  de- 
sire to  preserve  and  reproduce  them  more  conveniently 
for  his  own  mind.  The  sign  once  invented,  association 
does  all  the  rest  in  connecting  it  with  the  idea.  All 
the  modifications  of  language  are  also  the  work  of  this 
protean  faculty.  Association  makes  general  names ; 
man's  motive  being  simply  to  save  himself  the  trouble 
of  repeating  so  many  particular  ones ;  that  is,  he  learns 
to  say  "army,"  for  instance,  simply  because  it  is  incon- 
venient to  repeat  the  muster-roll  every  time  he  has 
occasion  to  indicate  it.  Adjectival  words  are  applied 
only  to  divide  classes;  as  when  we  form  the  two  sub- 
classes in  the  general  class,  "men,"  by  saying  "tall 
men,"  "short  men."  Predication,  instead  of  being  an 
expression  of  a  mental  judgment,  is  merely  an  expres- 
sion of  this  fact:  that  the  predicate  is  a  mark  of  the 
same  idea  which  the  subject  marks.  Now,  upon  this 
theory  of  language  it  can  never  be  explained  why  the 
animals  have  not  languages.  They  can  utter  sounds; 
and  they  can  surpass  man  far  in  the  language  of  panto- 
mime, which  comes  as  fully  within  Mr.  Mill's  definition, 
"  marks  of  ideas,"  as  do  articulate  words  themselves. 
The  animals  certainly  feel  one  of  the  motives  which  he 
supposes  have  prompted  men  to  form  languages,  the 
desire  to  communicate  their  impressions  to  their  fellows. 
The  ideas  of  the  animals  are  certainly  connected  by 
association ;  and  they  obviously  have  a  certain  kind  of 


Mill^s  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind.       83 

memory.  Why,  then,  have  they  not,  like  man,  con- 
structed a  methodical  language ;  why  have  they  not, 
in  addition  to  their  expressive  signs,  a  syntax  ?  The 
pretended  answer  is:  Because  they  lack  the  material 
organs  for  articulation  and  syllabication.  But  this  is 
an  insufficient  answer.  For  first,  if  the  lack  really  ex- 
isted, it  could,  by  itself,  only  prevent  a  great  multipli- 
cation of  signs  or  marks  of  their  ideas ;  and  the  question 
would  recur,  why  have  not  the  animals  connected  the 
signs  which  are  actually  possessed  by  them  (which  are 
not  a  few)  into  a  syntax,  and  thus  formed,  at  least,  a 
limited  language,  like  those  of  savages?  And  second, 
is  it  true  that  the  animals  lack  the  material  organs  for 
syllabication?  They  have  all  that  man's  body  has: 
lungs,  wind-pipe,  larynx,  vocal  cords,  tongue,  teeth,  pal- 
ate, lips.  Is  not  the  reason  why  beasts  never  utter  a 
true  consonant,  to  be  sought  rather  in  their  spirits 
than  in  their  mouths?  This  question  leads  us  to  a 
true  theory  of  language.  Man,  in  inventing  and  meth- 
odizing these  signs  of  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  em- 
ploys, a  priori,  subjective  powers  of  reason,  which  the 
spirit  of  the  beast  does  not  possess.  The  reason  why 
the  latter  never  divides  his  signs  into  "  parts  of  speech," 
and  digests  a  syntax,  is,  that  he  has  no  rational  powers 
of  construing  his  impressions  in  his  own  consciousness. 
His  spirit  is,  in  fact,  very  much  what  the  Sensualistic 
philosophy  would  make  man's  spirit,  a  mere  sentient 
centre  of  successive  impressions,  which  are  associated, 
expressed,  and  partially  remembered ;  but  never  con- 
strued in  the  reason,  into  categories.  And  the  reason 
why  man  is  gifted  with  "  discourse  of  reason,"  is,  that 
his  spirit  is  not  what  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  would 
make  it.  The  brute  is  impelled  by  instinct  to  utter 
those  sounds  which  express  his  impressions.  An  in- 
stinctive species  of  association  possibly  causes  him  to 
repeat  them  when  the  impressions  recur.  But  man 
names  objects  and  ideas,  of  set  purpose,  in  the  exercise 


84  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

of  rational  volition.  He  then  forms  classes  by  the  exer- 
cise of  the  rational  faculty  of  comparison.  His  adjec- 
tives are  not  mere  expedients  to  sub-divide  his  general 
classes;  but  logical  attributions  of  quality  to  its  subject. 
Other  and  graver  errors  of  this  system  will  be  ex- 
posed at  a  later  stage,  in  common  with  those  of  subse- 
quent advocates  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SENSUALISTIC   ETHICS   IN  GREAT  BRITAIN. 

r  I  ^HE  moral  sentiments  of  man,  as  has  been  indicated, 
-*-  afford  us  a  capital  test,  both  of  the  pretended  truth 
and  value  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy.  The  undis- 
puted facts  are  these:  that  we  have  certain  judgments 
and  feelings,  which  are  called,  by  common  consent, 
moral  or  ethical ;  and  the  very  fact,  that  mankind 
gives  them  distinct  names,  shows 'that  they  are  popu- 
larly supposed  to  form  a  class  separate  from  our  other 
perceptions  and  judgments.  We  speak  of  certain  acts 
of  rational  agents  as  right  or  wrong.  We  ascribe  to  these 
merit  or  demerit.  We  think  them  deserving  of  reward 
or  punishment.  We  speak  of  obligation  to  do  the  one 
sort  and  refrain  from  the  other.  We  express  a  vivid 
approbation  of  the  right,  and  disapprobation  for  the  wrong 
acts.  Especially  when  we  are  ourselves  the  agents  of 
them,  we  feel  sometimes  remorse  in  view  of  our  wrong 
acts,  and  a  vivid  peace  and  satisfaction  in  view  of  our 
right  acts.  We  judge  that  we  and  our  fellows  have,  in 
certain  cases,  a  peculiar  kind  of  claim,  which  we  call 
our  right,  which  we  think  to  be  a  moral  title  fortified 
by  obligation,  to  certain  things  or  a  certain  treatment. 
It  is  manifest  that  the  common  element  of  all  these 
judgments  is  the  apparent  distinction  between  right 
and  wrong.  For,  it  is  the  right  act  which  is  meritori- 
ous ;  which  earns  reward ;  which  answers  obligation  ; 
which  wins  love;  which,  seen  in  ourselves,  gives  satis- 
faction of  conscience ;  which  fulfills  the  claim  of  right 
of  our  fellow.  What  is  the  nature  of  that  distinction  ? 

(85) 


86  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

We  talk  of  conscience,  as  what  perceives  it.  Is  con- 
science a  faculty,  or  merely  a  complex  artificial  func- 
tion ?  It  is  in  the  answer  to  these  radical  questions 
that  we  apply  a  crucial  test  to  our  philosophy. 

Obviously,  this  moral  distinction  is  not  sensuous. 
Virtue  is  neither  a  primary  nor  a  secondary  property 
of  material  bodies.  Obviously  it  is  not  such  an  attribute 
as  can  be  perceived  by  sight  (like  color),  or  touch  (like 
smoothness),  or  hearing  (like  harmony),  or  taste  (like 
sugar),  or  smell  (like  fragrance).  If  men  call  it  tropic- 
ally, a  sweetness,  or  harmony,  or  brightness,  they  know 
that  it  is  only  so  metaphorically.  Literally,  no  man  has 
sense-perception  of  it.  Now,  then,  if  the  great  maxim 
of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy  is  true,  nihil  in  intellectu 
quod  non prius  in  sensu  ;  our  souls  have  no  such  original 
rational  function  as  conscience.  Conscience  must  be  a 
complex  or  an  artificial  result  of  other,  simpler  powers 
of  the  soul.  If  men  think  it  original,  they  must  deceive 
themselves,  as  they  do  in  imagining  that  they  directly 
see  relative  distances  or  relative  magnitudes  of  visual 
objects  ;  when,  as  Bishop  Berkeley  has  taught  us,  they 
are  only  making  a  rapid  and  facile  interpretation  of 
certain  primary  sensations  of  extension,  shade,  etc. 
The  great  frequency  of  the  process  makes  them  cease 
to  notice  the  parts  of  the  association.  So,  habit  and 
association  construct  what  we  call  the  functions  of  con- 
science, out  of  our  natural  perceptions  and  feelings,  in 
some  mode  or  other,  and  we  have  forgotten  the  real 
process,  in  our  familiarity  with  the  result.  And  last : 
as  mankind  popularly  suppose  that  they  have  an  original 
judgment  of  a  moral  distinction,  it  is  logically  incum- 
bent on  the  Sensualist  to  show  some  process  by  which 
the  illusion  has  grown  out  of  simpler  elements,  if  he 
can  ! 

The  student  has  seen  how  these  philosophers  in  the 
seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries  recognized  this 
task,  and  how  they  attempted  to  comply  with  it.  On 


Sensualistic  Ethics  in  Great  Britain.       87 

their  principle,  there  was  nothing  else  for  them  to  do. 
We  have  seen  how  Hobbes,  whose  giant  and  ruthless 
tread  broke  the  way  for  all  of  them,  undertook  to 
accomplish  the  task,  by  reducing  all  moral  sentiments 
to  simple,  instinctive  selfishness,  acting  upon  the  ulti- 
mate and  simple  fact  of  sensation,  that  some  impres- 
sions are  pleasurable  and  some  painful.  Thus,  with 
him,  the  moral  good  is  identical  with  natural  pleasure. 
Pleasure  is  the  only  rational  end.  Self-love,  directed  to 
pleasure,  is  the  whole  moral  motive.  The  laws  devised 
by  Leviathan  (the  autocratic  Imperiuni),  and  accepted  by 
the  community  as  the  necessary  expedient  for  ending 
the  intolerable  anarchy  of  the  "  state  of  nature  ;"  these 
laws  originate  all  moral  distinction.  Here  we  have  the 
Epicurean  ethics  revived  in  the  baldest  form.  Even  the 
pious  Locke  is  driven  by  the  Sensualistic  creed  to 
accept  this  scheme  in  its  chief  principle :  that  the  dis- 
tinction of  good  and  evil  is,  in  rudiment,  no  other  than 
that  of  pleasure  and  pain.  When  his  philosophy  was 
transplanted  into  France,  Hobbes'  conclusions  were 
yet  more  fully  revived  by  Condillac,  and  pursued  to 
their  most  loathsome  results  by  the  impudence  of  Hel- 
vetius. 

Returning  now  to  Great  Britain,  we  see  the  later 
Sensualistic  philosophers  pursuing  the  same  fated 
course.  Hume  presents  us  what  is  virtually  the  same 
analysis,  in  his  utilitarian  ethics.  What  men  call  the 
virtuous,  says  he,  is  simply  what  experience  has  shown 
to  be,  on  the  whole,  the  useful.  When  we  say,  u  we 
approve  the  virtuous,"  this  is  simply  a  result  of  associa- 
tion, combining  the  pleasure  experienced  from  the 
utility,  with  the  idea  of  the  action  which  causes  it. 
Thus,  in  experience  and  association,  we  have  all  the 
elements,  as  he  thinks,  to  account  for  our  seeming 
judgments  of  obligation,  merit,  and  right.  This  is  still, 
as  we  shall  show  in  its  place,  a  selfish  system. 

Dr.  Paley,  the  philosopher  of  the  clerical  devotees  of 


88  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  proceeding  from,  the  same 
starting-point,  presents  us  with  a  religious,  utilitarian, 
or  selfish  system.  Virtue,  according  to  his  definition, 
is  "  the  doing  good  to  mankind,  in  obedience  to  the  will 
of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness." 
Obligation,  with  him,  is  "  a  forcible  motive  arising  from 
the  will  of  another."  The  distinctive  quality  of  the  vir- 
tuous act  is,  according  to  him,  again,  its  utility.  The 
rule  of  distinction,  instead  of  being  the  imperfect  expe- 
rience of  the  natural  man  (as  with  Hume),  is  God's  wise 
will.  The  motive  is  still  simple  selfishness  ;  but  selfish- 
ness enlightened  by  a  revealed  immortality  and  its 
rewards  and  punishments. 

Bentham  presented  a  slight  modification  of  the  Utili- 
tarian scheme  of  Hume,  in  assigning  the  "  greatest  good 
of  the  greatest  number,"*  as  the  moral  end.  There  was, 
in  his  theory,  a  certain  sound  of  patriotism,  equity,  and 
benevolence,  which  rendered  his  speculations  very  at- 
tractive to  many  ingenious  minds.  To  him  who  looks 
at  the  subject  of  morals  only  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  human  legislator,  there  is  much  of  plausibility  in 
Bentham.  His  practical  rule  of  life  was  summed  up  in 
the  favorite  maxim,  "Minimize  the  evil."  The  largest 
resultant  aggregate  of  advantage  is  so  often  the  prac- 
tical end  of  the  legislator  and  magistrate,  and  an  en- 
lightened and  beneficent  expediency  is  so  often  his 
guide,  that  many  supposed  they  had  found  in  this 
maxim  the  fundamental  truth  of  morals.  The  acute 
Utilitarian  can  also  explain,  upon  his  principles,  many 
of  the  rules  of  public  and  social  morality.  But  the 
theory,  like  the  more  obviously  selfish  system,  con- 
founds natural  with  moral  good,  and  advantage  with  the 
moral  motive.  If  the  question  be  asked  :  why  .is  it  al- 
ways virtuous  to  "  seek  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 
number?"  no  other  answer  can  be  given,  than  that  this 


*  He  doubtless  borrowed  it  from  Beccaria. 


Sensualistic  Ethics  in  Great  Britain.        89 

good  is  man's  properest  end  at  all  times.  Why  the  great- 
est good  of  the  greatest  number,  instead  of  the  greatest 
good  of  the  worthiest  ?  It  can  only  be  because,  again, 
natural  good  is  the  exclusive  rational  end  of  man  ;  so 
exclusively  so,  that  it  is  to  attract  the  right  reason  by 
its  mere  mass,  as  matter  attracts  matter.  By  this 
theory,  aggregate  humanity  is  made  our  supreme  end 
again ;  and  this  assigns  self-interest  as  the  ultimate 
motive  of  all  moral  action.  For  the  agent  cannot  for- 
get that  he  is  an  integer  of  that  aggregate,  and  there- 
fore the  principle  on  which  the  virtuous  action  is 
required — that  of  the  self-interest  of  the  mass — must  also 
be  the  principle  upon  which  it  is  rendered. 

Very  near  akin  to  this,  again,  is  the  theory  of  morals 
known  as  the  benevolence  scheme.  This  identifies  vir- 
tue with  the  love  of  beneficence,  (making  no  recogni- 
tion of  the  love  of  moral  complacency  as  a  distinct 
species  of  the  affection).  According  to  this  scheme, 
benevolence  is  the  one  virtue,  inclusive  of  all  others. 
That  which  makes  sin  odious,  and  ill-deserving,  and 
punishable  by  justice,  is  simply  its  mischievousness. 
The  merit  of  virtue  is  simply  in  its  beneficence.  The 
rational  ground  of  rewards  and  punishments  is  to  be 
found  in  the  politic  tendency  of  these  sanctions  to 
"  minimize  "  the  mischiefs  which  sin  naturally  tends  to 
inflict  upon  the  welfare  of  man.  This  theory  wears,  at 
the  first  aspect,  an  air  of  peculiar  amiability  and  disin- 
terestedness. Its  advocates  advanced  it  as  the  opposite 
of  the  selfish  system  ;  for  does  it  not  propose  our  fellow- 
creature,  and  not  self,  as  the  object  of  the  all-including 
virtue  ?  And  what  can  be  more  disinterested  than 
benevolence  ?  Hence  many  divines  gave  into  this 
scheme  ;  especially  of  those  who  had  imbibed  the 
optimistic  opinions  of  Leibnitz  and  the  reasonings  of 
Grotius  on  Christ's  Satisfaction.  It  was  naturalized  in 
parts  of  America  by  the  Hopkinsian  school  and  their 
founder,  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins,  of  New  England.  The 


90  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

clerical  advocates  of  the  benevolence  scheme  could  not 
fail  to  make  the  plausible  claim,  that  the  Scriptures 
themselves  are  founded  on  it,  inasmuch  as  they  repre- 
sent love  as  "  the  fulfilling-  of  the  law,"  and  define  God's 
own  nature  as  love.  Yet  its  affinities  with  the  selfish 
system  are  obvious  to  a  little  reflection.  Why  should 
one  desire  to  analyze  the  ultimate  idea  of  the.  virtuous 
into  anything  but  the  virtuous,  except  at  the  bidding 
'  of  that  sensualistic  maxim,  which  can  admit  no  original 
sources  of  man's  judgments  and  affections,  save  the 
sensitive  ?  Why  is  benevolence  the  sum  of  all  virtue  ? 
Because  it  is  beneficent,  these  philosophers  answer. 
Its  moral  value,  then,  is  solely  in  the  fact  that  it  pro- 
motes well-being  ;  and  we  are  thus  led  back  to  the  old 
sensualistic  analysis,  which  recognizes  no  other  original 
quality  in  acts  than  their  pleasurableness  or  painfulness 
as  the  standard  of  their  moral  quality.  Thus,  again, 
moral  good  is  identified  with  natural  good.  It  is 
equally  easy  to  show  that  self-interest  lies  at  the  root  of 
the  moral  motive  upon  this  scheme.  If  virtue  is  nothing- 
but  benevolence,  and  acts  are  obligatory  only  because 
they  confer  natural  good,  then  it  is  the  plainest  thing 
in  the  world  that  whenever  I  prefer  my  moral  claim  of 
right  upon  a  fellow-creature,  my  desire  of  natural  good 
is  my  valid  reason  for  doing  so  ;  that  is,  my  self-interest. 
Thus  we  reach  the  conclusion  that  my  self-interest 
grounds  my  moral  right.  So  must  it  reciprocally 
ground  my  neighbor's  moral  right  on  me.  What  is 
this  but  to  reduce  the  interchange  of  virtuous  offices 
into  the  traffic  of  self-interest  ? 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  in  his  treatise  on  Cause  and 
Effect,  besides  other  features  of  his  philosophy,  be- 
trays a  certain  remainder  of  bondage  to  the  Sensualistic 
philosophy.  His  theory  of  the  moral  distinction  con- 
tains the  same.  It  is  true  that  in  his  eloquent  lectures 
he  attacks  the  selfish  systems  with  vigor,  and  utters 
many  noble  and  elevating  sentiments  touching  duty 


Sensualistic  Ethics  in   Great  Britain.        91 

and  virtue,  for  which  he  deserves  the  thanks  of  all  the 
good.  Yet,  in  his  final  analysis,  he  reduces  virtue  to  a 
generic  expression  for  a  certain  class  of  sensibilities. 
With  him,  the  affections  or  feelings  of  approbation  and 
disapprobation  are  the  rudimental  fact;  and  he  regards 
them  as  simply  the  instinctive  impressions  upon  a  sen- 
sibility. Certain  acts  impress  us  immediately  with  the 
peculiar  pleasure  called  approbation  ;  certain  others, 
with  the  instinctive  pain  called  disapprobation.  It  is 
as  when  the  visual  perception  of  an  azure  tint  gives  in- 
stinctive pleasure  to  the  sense.  The  soul,  recognizing 
in  its  experiences  these  two  classes  of  impressions  on 
its  sensibility,  connects  them  by  association  with  the 
acts  which  cause  them,  and  colligates  these  into  two 
classes.  The  virtuous  acts  are  simply  that  class  which 
affect  this  peculiar  sensibility  pleasurably  ;  the  vicious 
are  that  class  which  affect  it  disagreeably.  This  account 
of  the  moral  distinction  differs  from  the  correct  one  in 
one  important  respect,  that  it  refuses  to  find,  as  we  do, 
the  source  of  the  distinction  in  a  primitive  judgment  of 
the  reason.  Instead  of  making  the  acts  of  conscience 
primarily  such  a  judgment,  and  secondarily  a  peculiar 
emotion,  Dr.  Brown  makes  them  primarily  an  impres- 
sion made  from  without  on  the  distinctive  sensibility, 
and  secondarily  a  reference  of  acts  to  classes,  by  the 
associating  faculty.  Why  should  he  thus  depart  from 
the  analogies  of  sound  philosophy?  If  we  may  surmise 
from  the  parallel  speculation  upon  cause  and  effect,  it 
was  because  his  mind  was  too  much  tinctured  with  the 
Sensualistic  principles,  to  be  entirely  freed  from  the 
prejudice  against  a  priori  laws  of  the  reason.  His 
scheme  is  thus,  obviously,  a  sentimental,  as  distin- 
guished from  a  ratiqnal  scheme  of  ethics  :  and  it  is 
better  entitled  to  that  name  than  the  theory  of  Adam 
Smith,  which  he  successfully  exposes. 

After  we  have  completed  our  grouping  of  the  essen- 
tial points  of  the  erroneous  philosophy  by  this  historical 


92  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

review,  we  shall  be  better  prepared  to  deal  with  the 
refutation  of  the  ethical  theories  above  stated. 

The  explanation  which  the  Sensualistic  philosophy 
is  obliged  to  give  of  our  affections  of  taste  is  exactly 
parallel  to  its  moral  theory.  It  recognizes  no  rational 
aesthetic  judgment  whatever.  It  recurs  again  to  the 
original  fact,  that  sensations  are  either  pleasant  or  pain- 
ful. These  experiences,  modified  and  combined  by 
associations,  are,  with  them,  sole  source  of  our  senti- 
ments of  beauty,  sublimity,  and  their  opposites.  The 
Sensualist  is  impelled  to  this  shallow  solution  by  the 
same  influence  which  corrupted  his  ethical  theory  ;  his 
creed  will  not  permit  him  to  ascribe  to  the  mind  a 
supersensuous  primitive  power  of  judgment.  Thus,  the 
refutation  of  this  aesthetic  scheme  would  give  us  a 
similar  test  of  the  error  of  the  creed.  But  only  one 
point  will  be  raised  here.  If  the  same  power  of  asso- 
ciation is  the  instrument,  and  the  same  natural  pleasures 
and  pains  of  sense  are  the  materials,  both  of  the  ethical 
and  aesthetic  sentiments,  how  is  it  that  they  do  not  form 
one  general  class  in  men's  minds?  Why  do  all  men 
regard  the  two  kinds  of  sentiments  as  essentially  differ- 
ent? While  a  virtuous  object  and  a  tasteful  object  both 
give  certain  pleasures  when  contemplated,  why  do  we 
always  recognize  the  pleasures  as  unlike  ?  The  beauti- 
ful action  pleases  and  also  wins  our  moral  approbation ; 
the  beautiful  animal  pleases,  but  wins  no  moral  esteem. 
Why,  in  fine,  is  it  that  the  notion  of  obligation  is  always 
combined,  by  the  healthy  mind,  with  the  moral  judg- 
ment, and  never  with  the  aesthetic  ?  I  am  bound  to  be 
like  the  man  Jesus,  and  am  unworthy  and  ill-deserving 
if  I  do  not  strive  to  be  :  I  am  not  bound  to  be  like 
Adonis,  and  forfeit  no  moral  esteem  by  not  being  so. 
This  one  question,  insuperable  for  the  Sensualist,  is 
enough  to  bring  both  his  moral  and  his  aesthetic 
analysis  into  discredit. 


CHAPTER  V. 

POSITIVISM. 

"  "POSITIVISM,"  says  M.  Guizot,  in  his  Meditations, 
-*-  "  is  a  word — in  language  a  barbarism  ;  in  philos- 
ophy a  presumption."  Its  genius  is  sufficiently  indi- 
cated in  its  chosen  name,  in  which  it  denominates  itself, 
not  like  other  sciences,  by  its  object,  but  by  a  boast. 
The  votaries  of  physical  studies  often  disclose  a  mate- 
rialistic tendency,  depreciating  moral  and  spiritual 
truths.  The  egotism  and  feebleness  of  the  human  un- 
derstanding ever  incline  it  to  exaggerations  and  partial 
conclusions.  Man's  sensuous  nature  concurs  with  the 
fascination  of  the  empirical  method  applied  to  sensible 
objects,  to  make  him  overlook  the  spiritual.  Physicists 
become  so  elated  with  their  brilliant  success  in  detect- 
ing and  explaining  the  laws  of  second  causes,  that  they 
come  to  think  practically,  as  though  the  mind  needed 
no  higher  cause.  Thus  they  overlook  the  first  cause, 
which  constantly  presents  itself  to  the  reason  in  all  the 
others.  This  tendency  to  an  exclusive  or  anti-theistic 
Naturalism,  which  is  but  an  infirmity  and  vice  of  the 
fallen  mind  of  man,  no  one  has  avowed  so  defiantly  in 
our  age  as  M.  Auguste  Comte,  the  pretended  founder  of 
the  "  Positive  Philosophy."  His  attempt  is  nothing 
less  than  to  establish  this  Naturalism  in  its  most  abso- 
lute sense,  to  accept  all  its  tremendous  results,  and  to 
repudiate  as  worthless  all  human  beliefs  which  cannot 
be  established  by  exact  experimental  and  physical 
methods. 

Although  it  is  not  just  to  confound  the  man  and  his 

(93) 


94  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

opinions,  we  always  feel  a  justifiable  curiosity  touching 
the  character  of  one  who  claims  to  lead  our  beliefs. 
He  appeared  before  Guizot,  when  member  of  the 
Cabinet  of  Louis  Pliillipe,  with  the  modest  demand  that 
he  should  found  for  him  a  professorship  of  the  History 
of  Physical  and  Matlicmatical  Science  in  the  College  of 
France.  That  statesman  relates  :  "  He  explained  to  me 
drearily  and  confusedly  his  views  upon  man,  society, 
civilization,  religion,  philosophy,  history.  He  was  a 
man  single-minded,  honest,  of  profound  convictions, 
devoted  to  his  own  ideas,  in  appearance  modest,  al- 
though at  heart  prodigiously  vain  ;  he  sincerely  believed 
that  it  was  his  calling  to  open  a  new  era  for  the  mind 
of  man  and  for  human  society.  Whilst  listening  to  him, 
I  could  scarcely  refrain  from  expressing  my  astonish- 
ment that  a  mind  so  vigorous  should,  at  the  same  time, 
be  so  narrow  as  not  even  to  perceive  the  nature  and 
bearing  of  the  facts  with  which  he  was  dealing,  and  the 
questions  he  was  authoritatively  deciding  ;  that  a  char- 
acter so  disinterested  should  not  be  warned  by  his 
own  proper  sentiments — which  were  moral  in  spite  of 
his  system — of  its  falsity  and  its  negation  of  morality. 
I  did  not  even  make  any  attempt  at  discussion  with 
M.  Comte ;  his  sincerity,  his  enthusiasm,  and  the  delu- 
sion which  blinded  him,  inspired  me  with  that  sad 
esteem  which  takes  refuge  in  silence.  Had  I  even 
judged  it  fitting  to  create  the  chair  which  he  demanded, 
I  should  not  for  a  moment  have  dreamed  of  assigning 
it  to  him. 

"  I  should  have  been  as  silent  and  still  more  sad  if  I 
had  then  known  the  trials  through  which  M.  Auguste 
Comte  had  already  passed.  He  had  been,  in  1823,  a 
prey  to  a  violent  attack  of  mental  alienation,  and  in 
1827,  during  a  paroxysm  of  gloomy  melancholy,  he  had 
thrown  himself  from  the  Pont  des  Arts  into  the  Seine, 
but  had  been  rescued  by  one  of  the  King's  guard. 
More  than  once,  in  the  course  of  his  subsequent  life, 


Positivism.  95 

this  mental  trouble  seemed  on  the  point  of  recur- 
ring." 

The  reader,  allowing  for  the  courteous  euphemism 
of  M.  Guizot,  can  surmise  from  the  above  what  mannei 
of  man  Comte  was.  His  admiring  votary  and  biographer, 
M.  Littre,  reveals  in  his  master  an  arrogance  and  tyr- 
anny which  claimed  every  man  who  expressed  interest 
in  his  speculations  as  an  intellectual  serf,  and  which 
resented  all  subsequent  mental  independence  as  a  re- 
bellion and  treachery  to  be  visited  with  the  most  vin- 
dictive anger.  That  his  mental  conceit  was,  beyond 
the  "  intoxication  "  which  M.  Guizot  terms  it,  a  positive 
insanity,  is  manifest  from  his  own  language.  On  hear- 
ing of  the  adherence  of  a  Parisian  editor  to  his  creed, 
he  writes  to  his  wife  :  "  To  speak  plainly  and  in  general 
terms,  I  believe  that,  at  the  point  at  which  I  have  now 
arrived,  I  have  no  occasion  to  do  more  than  to  continue 
to  exist ;  the  kind  of  preponderance  which  I  covet  can- 
not fail  to  devolve  upon  me."  ....  "Manest  no  longer 
feels  any  repugnance  in  admitting  the  indispensable  fact 
of  my  intellectual  superiority."  And  to  John  Stuart 
Mill,  at  one  time  his  supporter,  he  wrote  of  "  a  common 
movement  of  philosophical  regeneration  everywhere, 
when  once  Positivism  shall  have  planted  its  standard — 
that  is,  its  light-house,  I  should  term  it — in  the  midst 
of  the  disorder  and  confusion  that  reigns  ;  and  I  hope 
that  this  will  be  the  natural  result  of  the  publication  of 
my  work  in  its  completed  state."  (This  is  his  Course  of 
Positive  Philosophy,  finished  in  1842.)  This  is  the  man, 
half- fanatic  and  half-crazed  with  conceit,  who  is  author- 
ity with  a  large  part  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophers 
of  our  day  ! 

"  Positivism  "  takes  ics  pretext  from  the  seeming  cer- 
tainty of  the  exact  sciences,  and  the  diversity  of  view 
and  uncertainty  which  appear  to  attend  metaphysics. 
It  points  to  the  solid  and  brilliant  results  of  the  former, 
and  to  the  asserted  vagueness  and  barrenness  of  the 


96  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

latter.  It  reminds  us  that  none  of  the  efforts  of  phi- 
losophy have  compelled  men  to  agree  touching  abso- 
lute truth  and  theology ;  but  the  mathematical  and 
physical  sciences  are  asserted  to  carry  perfect  assur- 
ance and  complete  agreement  to  all  minds  which  com- 
prehend their  proof.  In  these,  then,  we  have  a  satisfy- 
ing and  fruitful  quality,  "  poritivism  ;  "  in  those,  only 
delusion  and  disappointment.  Now,  adds  the  "  Posi- 
tivist,"  when  we  see  the  human  mind  thus  mocked  by 
futile  efforts  of  the  reason,  we  must  conclude  either 
that  it  has  adopted  a  wrong  organon  for  its  search,  or 
that  it  directs  that  search  towards  objects  which  are  ,In 
fact,  inaccessible  to  it.  Both  these  suppositions  Posi- 
tivism holds  true,  as  to  philosophy  and  theology.  Of 
those  questions  usually  treated  by  philosophy  and  the- 
ology, the  only  ones  which  admit  of  any  solution,  are 
problems  of  sociology,  and  they  must  receive  their 
solution  from  "  Positivism."  The  rest  are  illusory.  It 
claims  that  history  also  shows  that  this  new  science  is 
the  only  true  teacher.  For  when  the  course  of  human 
opinion  is  reviewed,  they  say  it  is  always  found  to  move 
through  three  stages.  In  its  first  stage,  the  human 
mind  tends  to  assign  a  theological  solution  for  every 
natural  problem  which  exercises  it:  it  resolves  every- 
thing into  an  effort  of  supernatural  power.  In  its  sec- 
ond stage,  having  outgrown  this  simple  view,  and 
becomes  metaphysical,  it  searches  in  philosophy  for 
primary  and  universal  truths,  and  ascribes  natural  ef- 
fects to  a  priori  ideas.  But  in  its  third,  or  adult  stage, 
it  learns  that  the  only  road  to  truth  is  the  empirical 
method  of  exact  science,  and  comes  to  rely  exclusively 
upon  that.  Thus,  argue  they,  the  history  of  human 
opinion  points  to  u  Positivism  "  as  the  only  teacher  of 
man. 

But  Comte,  while  he  denies  the  possibility  of  any 
science  of  psychology,  save  as  a  result  of  his  "  Posi- 
tivism," none  the  less  begins  with  a  psychology  of  his 


Positivism.  97 

own.  And  this  is  the  blankest  sensualistic.  He  who 
declares  that  science  cannot  have  any  a  priori  truths, 
virtually  adopts  as  his  a  priori  truth  the  ground-maxim 
of  that  psychology ;  he  holds  that  the  mind  has,  and 
can  have,  no  ideas  save  those  given  it  by  sensitive  per- 
ceptions, and  those  combined  therefrom.  The  only  pos- 
sible object  of  science,  therefore,  is  the  phenomena  of  sen- 
sible objects  and  tlieir  laws.  It  can  recognize  no  cause  or 
power  whatever,  but  such  as  metaphysicians  call  second 
causes.  It  has  no  species  of  evidence  whatever,  except 
sensations  and  experimental  proof.  Hear  the  science 
define  itself: 

"  Positive  philosophy  is  the  whole  body  of  human 
knowledge.  Human  knowledge  is  the  result  of  the 
forces  belonging  to  matter,  and  of  the  conditions  or 
laws  governing  those  forces/' 

"  The  fundamental  character  of  the  positive  philoso- 
phy is,  that  it  regards  all  phenomena  as  subjected  to  in- 
variable natural  laws,  and  considers  as  absolutely  inac- 
cessible to  us,  and  as  having  no  sense  for  us,  every 
inquiry  into  what  are  called  either  primary  or  final 
causes." 

"  The  scientific  path  in  which  I  have  walked  ever 
since  I  began  the  labors  that  I  obstinately  pursue  to 
elevate  social  theories  to  the  rank  of  physical  science, 
are  evidently,  absolutely,  and  radically  opposed  .to 
everything  that  has -a  religious  or  metaphysical  ten- 
dency." "  My  positive  philosophy  is  incompatible  with 
every  theological  or  metaphysical  philosophy."  "  Re- 
ligiosity is  not  only  a  weakness,  but  an  avowal  of  want 
of  power."  "  The  '  positive  state  '  is  that  state  of  the 
mind  in  which  it  conceives  \\\zi phenomena  are  governed 
by  constant  laws,  from  which  prayer  and  adoration  can 
demand  nothing." 

Such  are  some  of  the  declarations  of  his  chief  prin- 
ciples made  by  Comte  himself.  They  are  perspicuous 
and  candid  enough  to  remove  all  doubt  as  to  his 
7 


98  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

meaning.  He  also  distributes  human  science  under 
the  following  classes.  It  begins  with  mathematics, 
the  science  of  all  that  which  has  number  for  its 
measure ;  for  here  the  objects  are  most  exact,  and 
the  laws  most  rigorous  and  general.  From  mathe- 
matics the  mind  naturally  passes  to  physics,  which  is 
the  science  of  material  forces,  or  dynamics.  In  this 
second  class,  the  first  sub-division,  and  nearest  to 
mathematics  in  the  exactness  of  its  laws,  is  astronomy, 
or  the  mecanique  celeste:  Next  come  mechanics,  then 
statics,  and  last,  chemistry,  or  the  science  of  molecular 
dynamics.  This  brings  us  to  the  verge  of  the  third 
grand  division,  the  science  of  organisms;  for  the  won- 
ders of  chemistry  approach  near  to  the  results  of  vital- 
ity. This  science  of  organisms,  then,  is  biology,  the 
science  of  life,  whether  vegetable,  insect,  animal,  or 
human.  The  fourth  and  last  sphere  of  scientific  knowl- 
edge is  sociology,  or  the  science  of  man's  relations  to 
his  fellows  in  society,  including  history,  politics,  and 
whatever  of  ethics  may  exist  for  the  Positivist.  Above 
sociology  there  can  be  nothing;  because  beyond  this 
sensation  and  experimental  proof  do  not  go  ;  and  where 
they  are  not,  is  no  real  cognition.  Comte  considers  that 
the  fields  of  physics  and  mathematics  have  been  pretty 
thoroughly  occupied  by  Positivism  ;  and  hence  the 
solid  and  brilliant  results  which  these  departments  have 
yielded  under  the  hands  of  modern  science.  Biology 
has  also  been  partly  brought  under  his  method,  with 
some  striking  results.  But  sociology  remains  very 
much  in  chaos,  and  unfruitful  of  safe  conclusions,  be- 
cause Positivism  has  not  yet  digested  it.  All  the  prin- 
ciples of  society  founded  on  psychology  and  theology 
are,  according  to  him,  worthless  ;  and  nothing  can  be 
established,  to  any  purpose,  until  sociology  is  studied 
solely  as  a  science  of  physical  facts,  and  regular  physical 
laws,  without  concerning  ourselves  with  the  vain  dreams 
of  laws  of  mind,  free  agency  and  divine  providence. 


Positivism. 


99 


Such,  in  outline,  are  the  principles  of  Positivism. 
Let  us  consider  a  few  of  its  corollaries.  One  of  these, 
which  many  do  not  deign  to  conceal,  is  a  stark  mate- 
rialism. They  know  no  such  substance  as  spirit,  and 
no  such  laws  as  the  laws  of  mind.  For,  say  they,  man 
can  know  nothing  but  perceptions  of  the  senses,  and 
the  reflex  ideas  formed  from  them.  "  Positive  Philos- 
ophy," which,  they  say,  includes  all  human  knowledge, 
is  "  the  science  of  material  forces  and  their  regular 
laws."  Since  spirit  and  the  actings  of  spirit  can  never 
be  phenomena  (i.  e.,  changes  known  by  sense-perception), 
it  is  impossible  that  science  can  recognize  them.  This 
demonstration  is,  of  course,  as  rigid  against  the  admis- 
sion of  an  infinite  Spirit  as  any  other,  and  more  so,  as 
Positivism  repudiates  all  infinite  ideas.  Nor  does  this 
system  avail  itself  of  the  plea  that  there  may  possibly 
be  a  God  who  is  corporeal.  Its  necessarily  atheistic 
character  is  disclosed  in  the  assertion  that  true  science 
cannot  admit  any  supernatural  agency  or  existence,  or 
even  the  possibility  of  the  mind's  becoming  cognizant 
thereof.  Since  our  only  possible  knowledge  is  that  of 
sensible  phenomena  and  their  natural  laws,  which  are 
absolutely  invariable,  material  nature  must,  of  course, 
bound  our  knowledge.  Her  sphere  is  the  all.  Tf  there 
could  be  a  supernatural  event  (to  suppose  an  impossi- 
bility), the  realizing  of  it  would  destroy  our  intelligence, 
instead  of  informing  it.  For  it  would  subvert  the  uni- 
formity of  the  natural,  which  is  the  only  basis  of  our 
general  ideas,  the  norm  of  our  beliefs.  Positivism  is, 
therefore,  perfectly  consistent  in  denying  every  super- 
natural fact.  Hence  the  criticism  of  its  sympathizers, 
when,  like  Renan,  they  attempt  to  discuss  the  facts  of 
the  Christian  religion  and  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Their  own  literary  acquirements  and  the  force  of  intel- 
ligent opinion  deter  them  from  the  coarse  and  reckless 
expedient  of  the  school  of  Tom  Paine,  who  rid  them- 
selves of  every  difficult  fact  in  the  Christian  history  by 


ioo  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

a  flat  and  -ignorant  denial,  in  the  face  of  all  historical 
evidence.  These  recent  unbelievers  admit  the  estab- 
lished facts ;  but,  having  approached  them  with  the 
foregone  conclusion  that  there  can  be  no  supernatural 
cause,  they  are  reduced,  for  a  pretended  explanation, 
to  a  set  of  unproved  hypotheses  and  fantastic  guesses, 
which  they  offer  us  for  verities,  in  most  ludicrous  con- 
tradiction to  the  very  spirit  of  their  "  positive  philos- 
ophy." 

What  can  be  more  distinctly  miraculous  than  a  crea- 
tion ?  That  which  brings  nature  out  of  nihil  must,  of 
course,  be  supernatural.  Positivism  must,  therefore, 
deny  creation  as  a  fact  of  which  the  human  intelligence 
cannot  possibly  have  evidence.  As  the  universe  did 
not  begin,  it  must,  of  course,  be  from  eternity,  and, 
therefore,  self-existent.  But,  being  self-existent,  it  will, 
of  course,  never  end.  Thus,  matter  is  clothed  with  the 
attributes  of  God. 

The  perspicuous  reader  doubtless  perceives  that 
these  deductions,  when  stripped  of  the  verbal  forms 
of  philosophy,  are  identical  with  the  vulgar  logic  which 
one  hears  occasionally  from  atheistic  tailors  and  shoe- 
makers :  "  How  do  you  know  there  is  a  God  ?  Did 
you  ever  see  Him  ?  Did  you  ever  handle  Him  ?  Did 
you  ever  hear  Him  actually  talking?"  Those  who 
have  heard  the  philosophy  of  tap-rooms,  redolent  of  the 
fumes  of  bad  whiskey  and  tobacco,  recognize  it  as  pre- 
cisely that  of  Positivism,  adorned  with  more  sounding 
phrase. 

Once  more  :  Positivism  is  manifestly  a  system  of  rigid 
fatalism  ;  and  this  also  its  advocates  scarcely  trouble 
themselves  to  veil.  According  to  them,  human  knowl- 
edge contains  nothing  but  phenomena  and  their  natural 
laws.  "  The  positive  state  is  that  state  of  mind  in  which 
it  conceives  that  phenomena  are  governed  by  constant 
laws,  from  which  prayer  and  adoration  can  demand 
nothing."  "  The  fundamental  character  of  positive 


Positivism.  lot 

philosophy  is,  that  it  regards  all  phenomena  as  subject 
to  invariable  laws."  Such  are  Comtes  dicta.  The  only 
causation  he  knows  is  that  of  physical  second  causes. 
These,  of  course,  operate  blindly  and  necessarily.  This 
tremendous  conclusion  is  confirmed  by  the  doctrine  of 
the  eternity  and  self-existence  of  nature  ;  for  a  substance 
which  has  these  attributes,  and  is  also  material,  must 
be  what  it  is,  and  do  what  it  does,  by  an  immanent  and 
immutable  necessity.  Positivism  must  teach  us,  there- 
fore, if  it  is  consistent,  that  all  the  events  which  befall 
us  are  directed  by  a  physical  fate,  and  that  the  actions 
which  we  perform  are  also  directed  by  similar  causes  ; 
that,  in  short,  we  are  between  the  jaws  of  a  physical 
machine,  with  all  that  is  dear  to  us,  and  that  our  own 
free  agency  is  illusory. 

Comte  avows  that  his  classification  of  the  simpler 
sciences — mathematics,  mechanics,  chemistry,  biology 
—was  elaborated  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
the  more  complicated  one  of  sociology  under  the  posi- 
tive method.  The  two  banes  of  human  thought,  meta- 
physics and  theology,  had  so  perverted  sociology,  that 
he  found  it  in  a  greater  state  of  confusion  than  any 
other.  Hence,  his  most  important  mission  is  to  recon- 
struct or  regenerate  this  part  upon  the  Positivist 
method.  Let  us  see  the  result.  Sociology  must,  of 
course,  be  studied  exclusively  upon  the  phenomenal 
method.  Hence,  the  only  trustworthy  sources  of  its 
data  are  biology  (as  this  school  barbarously  calls 
zoology)  and  history.  Whatever  man  can  learn  pri- 
marily about  the  laws  of  mind  and  its  faculties,  he  must 
gather  from  phrenology  !  Later  in  his  studies,  Comte, 
becoming  dissatisfied  with  the  phrenological  map  of 
Gall  and  Spurzheim,  which  pretended  to  a  basis  of  ob- 
served facts,  constructed  one  which  he  deemed  more 
correct,  upon  purely  hypothetical  grounds  dictated  by 
a  purely  subjective  distribution  of  the  mental  faculties. 
Here  we  have  precisely  such  consistency  as  we  expect 


IO2  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

from  a  crazy  man  !  This  is  the  philosopher  who  ostra- 
cised all  a  priori,  subjective  truth,  all  spirit,  and  all 
psychology,  beginning  by  a  psychology  both  subjective 
and  hypothetical !  But  let  us  see  the  practical  conclu- 
sions of  a  sociology  thus  founded.  Europe  and  America 
were  to  be  broken  up  into  little  States  of  a  few  million 
people  each.  Every  such  State  was  to  be  governed  by 
an  oligarchy  of  three  wealthy  bankers,  who  were  to 
appoint  their  successors  by  their  own  fiat,  and  govern 
absolutely,  without  parliaments,  elections,  or  any  restric- 
tions. The  fashionable  French  doctrines  of  liberty, 
fraternity,  and  equality,  he  utterly  flouted.  All  the 
wealth  of  the  State  was  to  be  centered  in  a  few  hered- 
itary hands ;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  people  were  to  be 
operatives  for  these  capitalists.  Such  was  to  be  the 
social  structure,  all  sustained  and  operated  symmetri- 
cally by  the  potent  but  gentle  influence  of  the  positive 
philosophy.  But,  alongside  of  this  secular  oligarchy, 
there  was  to  be  a  "  spiritual  order,"  composed  of  the 
positive  philosophers  and  educators.  As  all  theological 
systems  and  gods  were  exploded,  of  course  there  could 
be  no  church  nor  priesthood,  in  the  ecclesiastical  sense ; 
the  spiritual  order  is  simply  the  scientific  caste  in  this 
oligarchical  state.  To  them  was  to  be  committed  all 
education  of  youth,  all  of  whom  were  to  be  advanced 
to  a  certain  degree  in  "  positive  science."  The  spiritual 
order  was  also  to  pronounce  upon  the  wisdom  and 
justice  of  the  measures  of  the  oligarchs ;  the  advisers 
were  to  have  no  power  of  enforcing  their  decisions, 
except  reason  ;  but  that,  among  rulers  and  people  en- 
lightened by  "  Positivism,"  would  always  be  sufficient. 
At  the  head  of  this  spiritual  caste  of  all  the  common- 
wealths of  the  whole  world  was  to  be  one  supreme  phi- 
losopher, the  embodiment  of  infallible  "Positive"  truth, 
whose  title  was  to  be  "  Pontiff  of  Humanity."  From 
his  scientific  dicta  there  would  be  no  appeal  whatever ; 
and  after  his  dominion  was  erected,  there  was  to  be  no 


Positivism.  103 

liberty  of  dissent  whatever  for  any  one,  learned  or  un- 
learned. Positivism,  as  established  by  Comte,  was 
thenceforward  to  reign  unquestioned,  with  all  the  ma- 
jestic sway  of  infallibility,  and  liberty  of  thought  would 
be  a  crime.  The  first  "  Pontiff  of  Humanity"  was,  of 
course,  to  be  Comte  himself;  and  he  was  to  appoint  his 
successor  by  his  sole  authority.  The  philosophic  pope 
predicted  also  when  this  great  revolution  would  take 
place — in  precisely  thirty-three  years  from  the  date  of 
the  publication  of  his  evangelion. 

Although  Positivism  knew  no  God,  "  neither  angel 
nor  spirit,"  for  all  this  it  was  to  have  a  splendid  religion. 
A  religion  without *a  God  did  not  strike  Comte  as  at  all 
a  solecism  ;  nor  does  it  strike  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  as  such. 
An  object,  however,  it  was  to  have  ;  and  this  was  to  be 
aggregate  humanity  ;  the  whole  mass  of  men,  dead,  living, 
and  to  live  hereafter.  This  aggregate,  Comte  called  the 
"  Great  Being."  He  devised  a  system  of  worship  for 
it,  with  eighty-four  holy  days  each  year,  and  nine  sac- 
raments. As  the  Positivist  believes  in  the  annihilation 
of  all  the  dead,  and  as  the  future  generations  are  not 
yet  in  existence,  it  may  seem  difficult  to  imagine  how 
the  Great  Being  is  to  be  made  up.  But  that  the  people 
who  find  a  spiritual  and  unchangeable  God  too  shad- 
owy to  have  a  place  in  their  positive  philosophy,  should 
make  a  deity  of  a  non-entity  in  large  part,  is  only  in 
character  with  the  contradictions  of  their  system.  We 
are  assured  that  the  "  Pontiff  of  Humanity  "  proposed 
the  whole  plan  in  perfect  gravity. 

To  the  sober  mind  it  seems  perfectly  obvious  that 
Comte  was  a  learned  man  crazed,  either  by  constitu- 
tional disease,  or  by  maniacal  conceit.  His  speculations 
should  occupy  rather  the  place  of  morbid  specimens, 
the  monstrosities  of  mental  disease,  than  of  a  system  of 
philosophy.  But  they  manifestly  influence  the  science 
of  this  generation  to  a  surprising  degree.  We  are  con- 
tinually told  that  in  France,  in  Germany, and  especially  in 


1O4  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Great  Britain,  they  are  avowed  by  multitudes,  and  boast 
of  prominent  names.  This  is  to  be  accounted  for,  not 
by  any  plausible  consistency  in  "  Positivism,"  or  special 
ability  ;  but  by  the  sympathy  between  it  and  the  Sen- 
sualistic philosophy.  The  two  systems  foreshadow  in 
common  the  darling  results  of  infidelity,  materialism, 
the  denial  of  the  supernatural,  the  denial  of  man's  im- 
mortality, and  atheism.  If  it  be  asked,  how  many 
Positivists  we  have,  the  question  will  receive  two  an- 
swers, according  to  the  strictness  or  width  with  which 
the  term  is  used.  Those  who  follow  Conite  in  every- 
thing, are  few  ;  for  such  were  his  arrogance,  dogma- 
tism, intolerance,  and  inconsistencies,  that  few  could 
cleave  to  him  through  his  whole  career.  J.  S.  Mill, 
while  introducing  his  works  to  Englishmen  through  the 
Westminster  Review,  is  heard  dissenting  from  Comtes 
scornful  depreciation  of  logic  and  psychology,  as  ever 
destined  to  be  un-positive  and  no  sciences.  For,  the 
reviewer  had  himself  written  a  large  work  on  Logic, 
and  his  father  one  on  Psychology.  But  the  essential 
features  of  the  system,  Mill  warmly  applauds.  So,  Dr. 
Thomas  Huxley,  Prof.  Tyndal,  and  Mr.  Spencer  may 
be  heard  declaring-  that  they  are  no  Positivists  ;  that  is 
to  say,  they  do  not  hold  some  of  Comtes  ideas  touching 
the  distribution  of  the  sciences.  But  they  also  advance, 
with  confidence,  the  essential  features  of  his  sys- 
tem, in  connection  with  the  evolution  theory.  Another 
of  these  evil  portents  on  the  literary  horizon  is  Henry 
Thomas  Buckle,  in  his  "  History  of  Civilization  in  Eng- 
land" His  theory  of  man  and  society  is  essentially  that 
of  the  Positivist.  He  regards  all  religion  as  the  out- 
growth of  civilization,  instead  of  its  root ;  and  is  willing 
to  compliment  Christianity  with  being  the  best  relig- 
ious effect  of  the  British  mind  and  character;  (provided 
Christianity  can  be  suggested  without  its  ministers, 
whose  supposed  bigotry,  ecclesiastical  and  theological, 
never  fails  to  inflame  his  philosophic  bigotry  to  a  red 


Positivism.  105 

heat).  But  he  anticipates  that  English  civilization  will, 
under  Positivist  teachings,  ultim  tely  create  for  itself  a 
religion  much  finer  than  Christianity.  He  disdains 
psychology  ;  he  does  not  believe  man's  consciousness  a 
trustworthy  witness ;  and  he  regards  those  general 
facts  which  are  disclosed  by  statistics,  for  instance,  con- 
cerning human  action,  the  only  materials  for  a  science 
of  man  and  society.  Fie  commends  intellectual  scep- 
ticism as  the  most  advantageous  state  of  mind.  He  is 
an  outspoken  fatalist,  and  regards  the  hope  of  modi- 
fying immutable  sequences  of  events  by  prayer,  as  pu- 
erile and  absurd.  He  regards  "  positive  science  "  as  a 
much  more  hopeful  fountain  of  well-being  and  progress, 
than  virtue  or  holiness. 

It  is  significant,  also,  to  hear  so  distinguished  a  natu- 
ralist as  Dr.  Hooker,  a  few  y ears  ago  president  of  the 
British  Association,  in  his  inaugural  address,  terming 
natural  theology,  "  that  most  dangerous  of  two-edged 
weapons  ; "  discarding  Metaphysics  as  "  availing  him 
nothing,"  and  condemning  all  who  believe  any  of  its 
truths  as  "  beyond  the  pale  of  scientific  criticism  ; ''  and 
declaring  roundly  that  no  theological  or  metaphysical 
proposition  rests  on  positive  truth. 

As- Americans  are  always  prompt  to  imitate  Euro- 
peans, especially  in  their  follies,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  acid,  that  positivist  dogmas  are  rife  in  our  current 
literature.  The  tendencies  of  physicists  are,  as  has 
been  noted,  towards  an  anti-theistic  Naturalism;  the 
boldness  with  which  the  school  of  Comte  lift  up  their 
standard,  has  encouraged  many  to  gather  around  it. 
Its  most  deplorable  result  is  the  impulse  which  it  gives 
to  irreligion  and  open  atheism.  Thousands  of  shallow 
persons,  who  have  no  understanding  of  any  connected 
philosophy,  and  are  too  indolent  and' inattentive  to  ac- 
quire it,  are  emboldened  to  babble  materialism  and 
impiety,  by  hearing  it  said  that  the  "  positive  philoso- 
phy "  has  exploded  the  supernatural. 


io6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

"  Positivism,"  in  its  broader  acceptation,  may  be  said, 
then,  to  have  become  the  prevalent  type  of  the  Sensual- 
istic philosophy  in  our  day.  Its  more  reckless  and 
daring  mode  of  dispensing  with  psychological  and 
theological  truths  appears  to  be  superseding,  with  most 
thinkers  of  a  sensualistic  tendency,  the  milder  methods 
of  the  Condillacs  and  Jas.  Mill.  He  would  not  commit 
a  great  practical  error,  who,  wishing  to  defend  his 
fellow-men  from  the  mischiefs  of  that  system,  should 
aim  his  attacks  at  the  dogmas  of  Comte. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

EVOLUTION     THEORY. 

A  SOUND  philosophy  infers  the  existence  of  an 
infinite,  personal  God,  by  three  processes  of  logic. 
Each  is  an  a  posteriori  process,  and  either  would  be  by 
itself  conclusive.  I.  It  is  the  great  law  of  the  reason, 
that  event  cannot  arise  without  cause  :  ex  nihilo  nihil. 
Hence,  dependent  beings  and  phenomena  reveal  an  in- 
dependent, eternal  Being  and  Cause.  Had  there  been 
a  time  in  past  eternity  when  notJiing  was,  all  infinite 
duration  must  thenceforward  have  been  a  blank.  Thus, 
by  the  very  constitution  of  the  mind  which  makes 
reasoning  possible  for  us,  the  caused  necessitates  the 
belief  in  the  Uncaused  ;  the  presence  of  the  temporal 
necessitates  ihe  belief  in  the  eternal  ;  and  the  finite  im- 
plies the  infinite.  "  He  who  apprehends  this,  will  not 
hesitate  to  grant  that  the  uncaused  Cause  must  include 
the'  attributes  revealed  in  his  effects,  intelligence,  power, 
and  will.  2.  Th :  phenomena  with  which  experience 
acquaints  us  all  express  contrivance.  Hence  there 
must  have  been  a  contriver.  3.  The  necessary  intui- 
tions of  conscience  are  found,  on  simple  inspection,  to 
contain  the  conviction  of  obligation.  It  is  impossible 
to  explain  this  obligation  as  relating  only  to  ourselves, 
or  our  fellow-man,  or  any  aggregate  of  men ;  while  it 
includes  these,  it  reaches  beyond  them.  But  obliga- 
tion implies  an  Obliger.  The  practical,  or  ethical  side 
of  the  reason,  therefore,  lea(js  us  inevitably  back  to  the 
same  absolute  Being,  and  necessitates,  moreover,  the 
recognition  of  His  moral  perfections,  while  re-affirming 
those  of  power,  intelligence,  and  will. 

(107) 


io8  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

There  is  a  supposed  pantheistic  evasion  fr  ;m  this 
adamantine  chain.  This  the  Sensualistic  philosophy 
cannot  consistently  embrace,  because  Pantheism  is  es- 
sentially idealistic.  The  only  other  evasion  possible  is 
that  of  an  eternal  series  of  temporal  beings  and  events. 
Atheism  has  attempted  to  proceed  thus  :  It  admits  that, 
inasmuch  as  beings  now  exist,  beings  must  have  eter- 
nally been  in  existence.  But,  it  asks,  why  may  not  the 
eternal  somethings  have  been  caused  somethings,  such 
as  those  we  see  around  us ;  separated  from  us  in  dura- 
tion by  an  infinite  number  of  intermediate  links  in 
chains  of  similar  beings  ?  To  this  scheme  of  a  self- 
existent  infinite  series,  uncaused  from  without,  philoso- 
phy advances  these  insuperable  objections:  That  in 
such  a  series  no  immediate  antecedent  is,  by  itself, 
adequate  cause  for  its  immediate  successor ;  and  that 
previous  links  in  the  chain  could  not  be  cause,  since 
they  were  totally  absent  from  the  rise  of  the  sequent 
effect.  Thus  the  utter  fallacy  was  exposed,  which  seeks 
to  impose  on  our  minds  by  the  vague  infinitude  of  the 
series  as  a  whole.  We  were  taught  that  no  series  made 
up  solely  of  effects,  each  dependent,  can  as  a  who'e 
be  self-existent.  Thus  perished  that  evasion  of  the 
atheist. 

Obviously,  if  there  is  any  expedient  for  resuscitating 
it,  this  must  be  found  in  the  attempt  to  prove  that  the 
law,  "  Like  produces  like,"  is  not  the  whole  explanation 
of  the  series.  By  that  law  a  series  of  beings,  forming 
a  gemis,  may  continue,  or  may  perish  ;  but  by  that  law 
alone  it  can  never  be  be  originated  ;  for  one  genus  of 
beings  does  not  transmute  itself  into  a  new  and  differ- 
ent one.  On  the  law,  "  Like  produces  like,"  alone,  it  is 
demonstrated  the  series  of  nature  cannot  be  self-existent. 
Hence  the  last  hope  of  atheism  is,  to  attempt  to  prove 
that  this  law  is  not  the  whole  natural  law  of  the  series  ; 
that  the  Like  does  not  produce  merely  the  like  :  in  other 
words,  that  the  series  contains  within  itself  a  natural 


Evohttion    Theory.  109 

power  of  differentiating  its  effects,  at  least,  slightly.  This 
is  the  heart  of  the  "evolution  theory"  of  our  day.  By 
the  short  review  of  the  great  theistic  argument,  which 
I  have  given,  we  discover  the  precise  locus  of  the  "evo- 
lution theory "  in  philosophy,  and  we  perceive  the 
logical  instinct  by  which  its  advocates  have  been  led 
(some  of  them,  perhaps,  semi-consciously)  to  elaborate  it. 
This  scheme  is,  however,  no  novelty.  It  is,  after  all 
its  pretended  refinements,  but  a  revival  of  the  "  atomic- 
theory  "  of  the  Greek  atheist,  Democritus,  adopted  by 
the  Epicurean  school,  but  so  utterly  discredited  by  the 
combined  logic  %of  the  other  schools  of  philosophy,  that 
it  has  been  driven  for  centuries  into  disgrace.  The  ap- 
plication of  an  evolution-hypothesis  to  the  descent  of 
man  has  been  often  attempted  ;  as  by  Lord  Monboddo, 
who  almost  exactly  anticipated  Dr.  Charles  Darwin's 
conclusion.  In  the  eyes  of  some  modern  physicists, 
however,  it  has  received  new  plausibility  from  the  more 
intelligent  speculations  of  the  Naturalist,  La  Marck, 
and  the  "  Yestiges  of  Creation,"  a  work  ascribed  to  Mr. 
Robert  Chambers,  of  Scotland.  But  it  appears  in  its 
fullest  form  in  the  two  works  of  Dr.  Charles  Darwin, 
"  Origin  of  Species,"  and  "  Descent  of  Man,"  published 
with  an  interval  of  some  eight  years  between  them. 
This  Naturalist  thinks  that,  in  animated  nature,  he  has 
found  the  law  of  "  Like  producing  like,"  modified  by 
the  two  laws  of  "  natural  selections  "  and  "  survival  of 
the  fittest."  Mr.  Wallace  (who  is  said  to  have  devised 
the  same  hypothesis  independently  of  Dr.  Darwin  about 
the  same  time)  gives,  in  substance,  this  summary  of  it. 
It  asserts  : 

1.  The  law  of  multiplication  of  animals  in  geometrical 
proportion.     Any  one  species,  if  unchecked,  would  fill 
the  whole  world.     The  checks  are  the  destruction  of 
the  germs  and  the  living  individuals  of  the  species  by 
enemies  and  by  adverse  conditions. 

2.  The  law  of  limited  population,  by  which  a  given 


1 1  o  Seyisualistic  Philosophy. 

adapted  area  of  our  earth  has  always  been  fully  stocked 
with  adapted  species.  Hence  the  spread  of  one  species 
must  imply  some  limitation  or  destruction  of  some 
other.  There  is,  thus,  a  constant  struggle  for  exist- 
ence. 

3.  The  law  of  Heredity,  by  which  the  progeny  re- 
produces all  the  essential  points  of  the  parents,  whether 
originally  generic  or  newly-developed. 

4.  The  law  of  variation,  by  which  such  differences  in 
individuals,  favored  by  external  conditions,  accumulate 
until  they  give  rise  to  a  distinct  variety. 

5.  The  law  of  equilibrium  in  nature,' whereby  the  in- 
dividuals and  species  best  adapted  to   existing  condi- 
tions survive,  and  the  less  fitted  perish. 

Some  of  these  laws  are  partly  true  as  expressions  of 
general  facts.  Dr.  Darwin  supposes  that  they  are  all 
illustrated  by  the  race-varieties  (which  are  certainly 
very  striking)  produced  in  genera  and  species  whose 
original  unity  is  ascertained,  through  the  arts  of  the 
bird-fancier  and  stock-breeder.  The  result  of  these 
laws,  modifying  the  law  of  the  reproduction  of  likes  by 
likes,  would  be  a  slight  differentiation  of  successors 
from  predecessors,  in  any  series  in  animated  nature. 
This  difference,  at  one  step,  might  be  almost  infini- 
tesimal :  this  conatus  of  Nature  towards  evolution  being 
totally  blind,  and  moving  at  hap-hazard,  might  result 
in  nothing  permanent  through  a  myriad  of  experiments 
or  instances  ;  and  only  evolve  something  stable  in  the 
species,  in  advance  of  its  prior  points,  in  the  ten-thou- 
sandth case.  Yet,  if  we  postulate  a  time  sufficiently 
vast,  during  which  the  law  h'as  been  working,  the 
result  may,  at  length,  be  the  evolution  of  the  highest 
from  the  lowest  forms  of  animal  life.  This  theory, 
obviously,  regards  the  process  of  evolution  as  entirely 
unintelligent.  Both  the  species  and  the  natural  condi- 
tions which  are  co-working  for  the  natural  selection 
and  survival  of  the  fittest,  work  blindly  ;  and  when 


Evolution    Theory.  1 1 1 

they  evolve  a  success,  they  do  it  by  chance.  The 
speculation  thus  suggests,  at  least,  a  way  in  which  adapta- 
tion may  arise,  without  a  contriving  mind.  Its  atheistic 
advocates  (among  whom  Dr.  Darwin  did  riot  rank 
himself)  declare,  with  decision,  that  it  totally  explodes 
the  teleological  argument,  as  drawn  by  Paley  from  the 
contrivances  in  the  organized  world,  for  an  intelligent 
Creator.  For,  say  they,  only  grant  time  enough  and  a 
sufficiently  vast  multiplicity  of  experiments,  then  what- 
ever the  ratio  of  failures  to  successes  by  the  help  of  this 
law  of  "survival  of  the  fittest,"  the  successful  variations 
persist,  and  the  present  organized  universe  is  the  slow 
result.  One  of  these  followers  of  Darwin  illustrates 
this  atheistic  inference  thus  :  What  more  blind  than  a 
hurricane  ?  Yet  a  hurricane  may  perform  the  appar- 
ently contriving  work  of  transplanting  a  sapling,  after 
this  fashion.  The  first  mighty  blast  of  the  gale  has 
blown  down  a  tall  pine,  uprooting  with  it  a  mass  of 
earth,  and  leaving  a  cavity  at  the  end  of  the  prostrate 
trunk.  Tnto  this  is  accidentally  dropped  the  sapling, 
just  torn  from  its  soft  bed  by  the  storm.  The  few  clods 
of  mould  clinging  to  its  rootlets  will,  by  the  natural 
power  of  gravitation,  make  it  fall  root-downwards. 
The  torrents  of  rain  which  follow  the  gale  will  wash 
some  soil  from  the  up-torn  mass  upon  it ;  and  thus  we 
see  it  regularly  planted  in  place  of  the  dead  pine.  A 
French  advocate  of  Darwin  attempts  thus  to  rebutt  the 
principle  of  common  sense,  which  teaches  us  that  blind 
chance  cannot  be  cause  of  an  ordered  result.  "  Cicero 
attempts  to  illustrate  this,  by  citing  the  heroic  poems 
of  Ennius,  and  asking  how  incredible  it  would  be  that 
these  should  have  been  produced  by  pure  accident, 
through  the  throwing  together  of  a  great  multitude  of 
separate  letters  from  a  basket.  Give  me  an  infinite 
number  of  throws,  and  an  eternity  to  throw  in  ;  then, 
amidst  the  infinite  numbers  of  possible  collocations 
which  the  letters  may  assume,  may  be  the  very  one 


1 1 2  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

constituting  the  poems  of  Ennius."  By  this  species  of 
speculation  is  the  attempt  now  made  to  rob  us  of  that 
teleological  argument,  from  contrivance  to  a  Contriver, 
which  has  satisfied  every  solid  mind  from  Job  and  Soc- 
rates to  our  age. 

Darwin,  in  his  second  book,  "  Descent  of  Man,"  ap- 
plies his  theory  of  the  origin  of  species  to  the  extreme 
case  of  the  development  by  evolution  of  the  human 
race.  He  supposes  that  this  took  place  many  thousands 
of  years  ago,  under  the  natural  operation  of  his  two 
laws,  from  a  highly  -  developed  species  of  ape,  now 
probably  extinct.  The  ape's  progeny,  of  course,  began 
his  human  career  in  a  state  of  primitive  barbarism,  as 
is  argued  by  Sir  John  Lubbock.  Many  tedious  cen- 
turies passed  away  before  the  human  became  enough 
humanized  to  have  a  history.  The  ape,  who  was  the 
parent  of  man,  was,  in  turn,  the  developed  progeny  of 
some  less  perfect  animal.  Thus,  the  series  is  followed 
back,  until  we  find  the  simplest  form  of  animal  life. 
Thus,  to  construct  animated  nature,  Darwin  requires 
only  his  laws  of  evolution  and  the  rudimental  forms  of 
animal  life  preexisting  by  the  power  of  a  Creator,  or  of 
some  other  agency.  This  account  of  man's  descent  in- 
volves, of  course,  the  necessity  of  evolving  his  spiritual 
nature  out  of  the  instinctive  animal  functions  of  the 
brute.  This  arduous  task  Darwin  attempts,  actually 
endeavoring  to  account  for  the  marvels  of  the  enlight- 
ened human  conscience  as  a  development  of  the  fears 
and  habits  of  the  trained  animal.  The  sportsman  says 
to  his  pointer-clog:  "You  ought  not  to  have  flushed 
those  birds  !  "  He  punishes  him,  and  the  dog  cowers 
and  expresses  his  guilt,  fear,  and  penitence,  by  his 
deprecatory  gestures.  What  does  that  "  ought  not '' 
mean  to  that  dog  ?  What,  is  the  lesson  to  him  of  those 
strident  tones  and  of  those  blows?  Thus,  according 
to  Darwin,  we  have  the  whole  rudiment  of  the  notions 
of  obligation  and  merit  in  the  virtuous  hero.  The  whole 


Evolution    Theory.  1 1 3 

splendid  result  is  but  the  evolution,  by  habit,  of  those 
ideas  of  an  act  and  its  sequent  pain,  given  in  the  animal 
sensations,  and  connected  by  association.  But  man's 
intellectual  and  moral  superiority  to  the  brute's  is 
chiefly  accounted  for  by  this  fact,  that  among  the 
physical  improvements  evolved  is  a  great  increase  in 
the  volume  and  convolutions  of  the  brain.  According 
to  this  animal  system,  it  is  the  brain  which  thinks:  and 
the  man  has  gotten  more  talent  than  his  cousin,  the 
brute,  because  he  has  developed  more  brain.  Thus  far 
Darwinism. 

Dr.  Thomas  Huxley,  and  Prof.  Tyndal,  seconded  by 
many  British,  Continental,  and  American  Materialists, 
have  undertaken  to  complete  the  process.  They  under- 
take to  supply,  without  a  Creator,  that  original  and 
rudimental  animal  source,  which  Darwin  required  to 
start  with.  Huxley's  contribution  to  this  work  is,  to 
attempt  to  identify  animal  with  vegetable  life.  This  he 
endeavors  to  do  by  finding  the  origin  of  all  vegetable 
and  animal  life  in  a  substance  which  he  calls  "proto- 
plasm," which  is  his  "physical  basis  of  life."  This,  he 
asserts,  however  varied,  always  exhibits  a  threefold 
unity,  of 'faculty,  of  form,  and  of  substance.  First,  The  fac- 
ulties are  alike  in  all,  contractility,  alimentation,  and 
reproduction.  All  vegetable  things  are  sensitive  plants, 
if  we  knew  them.  And  the  difference  of  these  func- 
tions in  the  lowest  plant  and  highest  animal  is  only  one 
of  degree.  Second,  Protoplasm  is  everywhere  identi- 
cal in  molecular  form.  And,  third,  Its  substance  is  al- 
ways oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  and  carbon.  The 
fate,  then,  of  all  protoplasm  is  death,  that  is,  dissolution 
into  its  four  elements ;  and  its  origin  is  the  chemical 
union  of  the  same.  Does  the  compound  display  prop- 
erties very  different  from  the  elements  ?  So  has  water 
properties  very  unlike  the  mixture  of  two  volumes  of 
hydrogen  and  oxygen  gas.  Yet  the  electric  spark, 
flashed  through  them,  awakens  the  chemical  affinit3rr 
8 


114  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

which  makes  water.  So,  a  little  speck  of  pre-existing 
protoplasm  causes  these  dead  elements  to  arrange 
themselves  into  new  protoplasm.  There  is,  then,  no 
more  cause  to  assume  in  the  living  organism,  a  new 
and  mysterious  cause,  above  that  of  chemical  affinity, 
and  to  name  it  vitality,  than  in  the  other  case,  an  im- 
aginary property  of  "  aquosity."  And  as  a  certain 
chemical  aggregation  of  the  four  elements  is  proto- 
plasm, the  basis  of  all  life  :  so  the  higher  vital  functions 
including  those  of  mind,  must  be  explained  by  the  same 
force,  acting  in  a  more  complicated  way. 

Huxley  left,  if  his  scheme  were  credible,  only  one 
gap  to  be  filled :  that  between  organic  and  inorganic 
life  ;  and  he  suggested  the  way  of  filling  this  chasm,  by 
asserting  that  the  only  force  which  unites  the  four  sim- 
ple elements  into  "  protoplasm  "  is  chemical  affinity, 
and  the  only  difference  between  the  organic  and  inor- 
ganic masses  is,  that  the  chemical  affinities  in  the 
former  are  more  complicated.  Yet,  he  himself  admit- 
ted that  no  chemist  had  ever  produced  any  vitalized 
matter,  without  generation  from  a  vital  germ.  His 
associates,  however,  attempt  to  fill  this  remaining 
chasm,  and  to  leave  no  place  nor  use  for  a  Creator  any- 
where. Prof.  Tyndal,  for  instance,  in  his  inaugural 
discourse,  as  President  of  the  British  Association,  for- 
mally attempts  to  revive  the  forgotten  system  of  Democ- 
ritus ;  and  to  generate  the  Universe  from  nothing  but 
atoms.  He  gives  us  himself  the  following  outline  of 
this  old  pagan-atheist  system  :  i.  "  From  nothing  comes 
nothing.  Nothing  that  exists  can  be  destroyed.  All 
changes  are  due  to  the  combination  and  separation  of 
molecules."  2.  "  Nothing  happens  by  chance.  Every 
occurrence  has  its  cause,  from  which  it  follows  by  ne- 
cessity." 3.  u  The  only  existing  things  are  the  atoms 
and  empty  space ;  all  else  is  mere  opinion."  4.  "  The 
atoms  are  infinite  in  number,  and  infinitely  various  in 
form  ;  they  strike  together,  and  the  lateral  motions  and 


Evolution    Theory.  i  r  5 

whirlings  which  thence  arise  are  the  beginnings  of 
worlds."  5.  "  The  varieties  of  all  things  depend  upon  the 
varieties  of  their  atoms,  in  number,  size,  and  aggre- 
gation." 6.  "  The  soul  consists  of  fine,  smooth,  round 
atoms,  like  those  of  fire.  These  are  the  most  mobile  of 
all.  They  interpenetrate  the  whole  body,  and  in  their 
motions  the  phenomena  of  life  arise." 

Tyndal  gives  us  to  understand  that  he  accepts  this 
scheme  as  his  own,  in  all  but  the  last  proposition.  He 
says  :  "  The  first  five  propositions  are  a  fair  general 
statement  of  the  atomic  philosophy  as  now  held.  As  re- 
gards the  sixth,  Democritus  made  his  fine,  smooth 
atoms  do  duty  for  the  nervous  system,  whose  functions 
were  then  unknown."  In  Tyndal's  atomic  plan,  we  are 
thus  given  to  understand  the  nervous  system  u  does 
duty  "  for  a  soul.  He  then  proceeds,  after  adopting 
tne  pretended  results  of  Darwin  and  Huxley  with  ful- 
some laudation,  to  extend  the  evolution  theory  to  all 
mental  and  mgral  faculties,  including  the  highest.  Here 
he  adopts,  with  equally  intense  admiration,  the  dogmas 
of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  concerning  the  hereditary 
transmission  of  instinctive  habitudes,  from  parent  to 
progeny,  until  by  a  cumulative  process,  the  whole  dis- 
cipline of  the  animal  instincts,  recorded  on  the  matter 
of  the  brains  of  the  parents  through  all  past  genera- 
tions, is  bequeathed  to  ours.  Thus,  as  evolution  was 
gradually,  through  millions  of  ages,  evolving  the  form 
of  a  Newton,  or  Shakespeare,  from  the  primary  animal 
cell  to  the  mollusk,  the  reptile,  the  mammal,  the  ape, 
the  man,  this  cumulative  process  was  gradually  evolv- 
ing the  rudimental  animal  instinct  of  the  insect,  into  the 
mind  of  a  grand  philosopher  or  poet.  Tyndal  thinks 
that  the  tactual  sense  is  the  rudiment  of  all  the  other 
senses,  and,  so,  of  all  mind.  Hence,  the  reason  why 
human  generations  have  at  last  evolved  from  the  brute 
mind  a  human  mind,  is,  that  his  members  have  become 
so  developed  that  he  can  feel  (with  his  fingers,  lips, 


1 1 6  Sensiialistic  Philosophy. 

etc.)  more  things  than  shell  fishes-,  or  horny-hoofed 
animals.  Thus,  parrots  become  wise  birds,  because 
they  climb  about  and  grasp  things  more  with  their 
claws  and  beaks  than  other  birds  do.  Elephants  are  so 
very  wise  among  animals,  because  their  long  and  supple 
proboscis  is  so  fine  an  implement  to  feel  things  with. 
Apes  are  smarter  than  most  animals  because  their  pre- 
hensile feet  enable  them  to  finger  things  almost  like 
men.  Horses,  whose  horny  hoofs  give  them  so  sorry  a 
chance  to  finger  anything  intelligibly  with  their  ex- 
tremities, derive  some  chance  for  getting  up  an  intel- 
lect, by  the  help  of  their  nibblings  with  their  very  flex- 
ible lips.  Tyndal  thus  reaches  precisely  the  conclusion 
of  the  materialist  Helvetius,  in  the  last  century,  who, 
the  student  will  remember,  referred  the  whole  differ- 
ence between  human  and  brute  faculties  to  the  bodily 
difference,  and  chiefly  to  the  structure  of  the  human 
hand.  And  this  is  the  sort  of  speculation  to  which, 
under  the  name  of  science,  the  assembled  physical 
learning  of  Great  Britain  delights  to  pay  its  especial 
homage !  What  more  deplorable  illustration  can  we 
have  of  the  intellectual  degradation  to  which  man  sinks 
under  the  teachings  of  sensualism  and  atheism  ! 

But  Tyndal,  like  Huxley,  after  obliterating  all  dis- 
tinction between  mind  and  matter,  finds  himself  io- 
volved  in  insuperable  difficulties.'  Hence,  they  resort 
to  a  sort  of  spiritualizing  of  matter.  That  is,  they  leap 
from  a  stark  materialism,  to  a  species  of  idealism.  In- 
stead of  identifying  mind  with  matter,  they  would  have 
us  identify  matter  with  mind.  There  is  but  one  kind 
of  power  in  the  universe,  and  that  is  force ;  and  one 
kind  of  effect,  which  is  motion.  Mechanical  action  is 
motion  of  masses  ;  and  mental  action  is  motion  of  mole- 
cules. Mind-power  will  some  day  be  literally  corre- 
lated to  material  forces,  as  caloric  in  water  has  been  to 
elasticity  in  steam.  We  must  not,  then,  think  of  mat- 
ter as  a  something  dull,  gross,  passive,  simply  pon- 


Evolution    Theory.  117 

derable,  opaque,  and  inert ;  but  as  the  refined  habitat 
offeree,  the  invisible,  universal  cause.  Thus  again,  we 
see  extremes  meeting,  and  the  extravagance  of  mate- 
rialism driving  its  advocates  into  the  dreams  of  ideal- 
ism. 

Tyndal,  in  conclusion,  cautions  his  hearers  that  they 
must  not  suppose  this  banishment  of  spirit,  God,  and 
immortality,  out  of  the  universe,  need  banish  religion. 
Not  at  all.  There  is,  indeed,  no  foothold  for  religion  in 
man's  rational  nature  ;  but  his  emotions  impel  him  to 
religion.  And  emotions  are  one  essential  side  of  human 
nature,  and  a  very  useful  and  noble  side.  Hence,  the 
demand  which  man's  emotive  system  makes  for  a  relig- 
ion is  not  to  be  despised.  The  result  seems  to  be  this : 
that  provided  a  man  knows  that  he  knows  nothing  on 
earth  about  any  God,  he  may  feel  as  affectionately  dis- 
posed towards  God  as  he  pleases,  and  Professor  Tyn- 
dal will  not  despise  him  !  But  if  he  ever  pretends  to 
see  any  reason  for  his  feelings,  he  is  riot  to  be  tolerated. 
Such  is  a  just  statement  of  this  charitable  and  pious 
concession,  and  no  travesty.  The  absurdity  is  suffi- 
ciently exposed  by  the  statement  itself.  Or  if  any 
farther  explanation  is  needed,  it  is  found  in  this  ques- 
tion :  Under  what  condition  can  rational  emotions  rise 
in  the  soul  ?  Only  when  a  proper  object  of  them  is  be- 
lievingly  seen  in  the  intelligence.  If  one  has  feeling 
under  any  other  condition,  it  is  blind  ;  and  unless  it  has 
a  merely  animal  function  to  fulfil,  it  is  a  morbid  affec- 
tion of  the  soul,  and  needs  to  be  rebuked.  Hence,  if 
we  are  told  that  our  religion  can  be  a  matter  of  feeling 
alone,  and  not  of  reason,  it  is  the  same  as  telling  us  to 
have  no  religion. 

Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  is  regarded,  evidently,  by  Evo- 
lutionists (and  perhaps  by  himself)  as  the  Aristotle  of 
Evolutionism.  Beginning  from  the  method  of  the  Sen- 
sualistic  philosophy,  he  presents  us,  at  la^t,  another 


1 1 8  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

striking  instance  of  the  maxim  that  "  Extremes  meet," 
by  usurping  and  exaggerating  the  most  extreme  feat- 
ures of  Hamilton's  rational  system.  Spencer  begins 
by  adopting  the  ultra-nominalism  of  James  Mill,  as  to 
the  formation  of  our  general  concepts.  Ignoring  the 
power  of  comparison  in  the  mind,  which  is  correctly 
made  the  basis  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Conceptualist, 
they  treat  our  general  names  as  mere  names,  answering 
to  nothing  but  as  many  of  the  individuals  as  the  mind 
can  remember  together.  Hence,  the  larger  the  class, 
or  image,  the  more  vague  the  idea,  say  they.  Hence, 
again,  the  notions  which  we  acquire  the  habit  of  attach- 
ing to  very  large  classes  or  comprehensive  images,  have 
less  and  less  conformity  to  the  things  comprehended. 
They  are  mere  symbols,  as  Spencer  calls  them,  "  sym- 
bolic conceptions,"  which  we  get  into  the  habit  of  sub- 
stituting for  our  ignorance,  where  the  objects  named 
have  really  outgrown  our  conceptions.  We  have  no 
guarantee  whatever  of  their  real  truth.  This  initial 
sophism  quietly  omits  the  known  fact,  that  every  class- 
formation  in  the  mind  is  an  act  of  the  a  priori  and  valid 
power  of  comparison  :  and  that  the  general  term  con- 
notes the  common  qualities,  and  denotes  the  individual 
things  possessing  in  common  those  qualities.  Spencer 
outrages,  at  the  beginning  of  his  process,  the  well- 
established  law  of  logic,  that  in  general  terms,  as  we 
widen  the  comprehension  of  a  class,  taking  in  more  in- 
dividuals, we  unavoidably  diminish  the  number  of  dis- 
tinguishable qualities  seen  to  be  common  to  all ;  that  is 
.to  say,  as  we  increase  the  denotation,  we  diminish  the 
connotation.  Hence,  the  truth  is,  that  our  most  general 
ideas  are  the  simplest.  The  idea  in  "  animal  "  is  simpler, 
and,  in  that  sense,  more  perspicuous,  than  the  idea  in 
"quadruped":  because  the  name  of  this  smaller  class 
connotes  all  the  qualities  in  "animal,"  and  at  least  one 
more  besides.  Hence,  when  Spencer  calls  these  general 
notions  "  symbolic  ideas,"  and  when  he  says  they  are 


Evolution    Theory.  119 

valid  only  when  sustained  by  an  individual  verification, 
he  asserts  a  fundamental  error  of  Sensualism. 

The  next  foundation-stones  of  his  system  are  the  two 
Hamtltonian  doctrines,  that  our  knowledge  is  only  rela- 
tive, and  that  our  minds  are  incapable  of  having  any 
cognition  of  the  unconditioned.  Both  of  these  he 
usurps  and  employs  for  sweeping  and  destructive  uses, 
to  which  Hamilton  would  have  utterly  demurred.  That 
he  could  usurp  them  shows,  as  we  shall  argue  hereafter, 
that  Hamilton  mixed  some  errors  of  Sensualism  in  his 
own  system.  Whereas  the  Scotch  philosopher  claimed 
real  knowledge  for  our  perceptions  of  substance  and 
the  primary  attributes  of  matter,  and  only  made  the 
remainder  of  our  knowledge  relative,  Spencer  would 
make  it  all  so.  Hamilton's  love  of  strong  and  of  novel 
phraseology  prompted  him  to  exaggerate  that  truth 
which  all  careful  rninds  apprehend,  that  our  ideas  about 
things  infinite  and  absolute  must  be  incomplete,  because 
our  own  minds  are  finite  ;  and  he  loved  to  state  it  as  an 
inability  to  think  the  unconditioned.  This  proposition 
Spencer  pushes  to  the  absurdity  that  all  absolutes  are 
to  us  wholly  unknowable  (concepts  merely  symbolic). 
Twenty  years  ago,  Dr.  M'Guffey,  being  in  his  study 
with  me,  pointed  to  Hansel's  "  Limits  of  Religious 
Thought,"  saying:  "Have  you  read  that  book?"  I 
answered  that  I  had.  Said  he  :  "  I  beg  that  you  will 
read  it  again  carefully.  I  regard  it  as  a  dangerous  and 
erroneous  book,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  know  whether 
you  concur  with  me."  I  could  say  that  I  had  already 
concurred — it  seemed  to  me  unspeakably  mischievous. 
Mansel's  dogma,  that  God  cannot  be  truly  known  to  our 
thought,  because  absolute  and  infinite,  was  precisely  to 
Spencer's  purpose;  and  he,  of^ course,  seizes  it  with 
much  applause.  He  adopts  all  its  glaring  errors.  He 
also  extends  the  same  "  unknowable  "  character  to  all 
our  abstract  ideas  ;  to  that,  of  course,  of  time,  of  space, 
of  spirit,  of  matter,  of  beginning,  of  ending.  While  he 


I2O  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

admits  that  no  mind  can  help  having  these  ideas,  no 
one  can  ever  have  a  valid  title  to  think  them.  On 
this,  as  well  as  on  the  old  Sensualistic  ground,  then, 
he  dismisses  God,  substance,  and  spirit,  from  his  phi- 
losophy. 

But  the  question  now  presses  him  :  What  is  philos- 
ophy ?  He  cannot  give  the  answer  of  any  prior  student : 
as,  that  Philosophy  is  the  meta-physical  ;  or,  that  it  is 
the  science  of  rational  spirit  and  God  ;  or,  that  it  is  the 
science  of  absolute  being  ;  for  he  has  nothing  but  the 
physical  on  his  plan.  He  has  no  sp'r't,  no  God,  no 
absolute  being.  What,  then,  can  Mr.  Spencer's  philos- 
ophy be  ?  His  answer  is  :  Philosophy  is  Science  com- 
pletely "  unified,"  by  which  he  means  not  merely 
sciences  shown  to  be  consistent  inter  se,  but  that  all 
sciences  are  systematized  laws  of  one  single  power.  Can 
there  be  such  a  demonstration  ?  Ought  there  to  be  such 
a  demonstration?  All  these  deep  questions  Mr.  Spen- 
cer virtually  answers  by  his  simple  authority.  He  says 
there  can  and  must  be.  He  says  science  is  not  philos- 
ophy until  it  is  thus  "  unified."  He  is  not  satisfied  with 
the  inter-consistency  of  the  different  sciences,  which  has 
satisfied  other  men.  He  says  nothing  philosophical  is 
done  until  all  sciences  are  shown  to  be  the  uniform  and 
invariable  law  of  a  single  power.  He  deigns  to  give  no 
reason  why.  He  speaks  as  a  philosophic  Pope.  So  it 
must  be.  The  only  ground  for  the  assumption  which  he 
deigns  to  give  is  that  suggested  by  the  remark,  that 
man's  empirical  scientific  knowledge  seems  to  point  to 
the  proposition  that  the  laws  of  nature  are  universally 
uniform.  But  if  they  are,  the  other  hypothesis  of  a 
universal  Providence  exercised  by  an  almighty,  per- 
sonal Spirit  explains  that  result  far  better.  Why,  then, 
reject  it  for  one  at  least  as  "  unthinkable  ?"  There  re- 
mains no  answer  but  that  so  it  pleases  Mr.  Spencer. 
To  any  common  sense  it  appears  evident,  that  could 
Mr.  Spencer  establish  this  philosophy,  then  his  single, 


Evolution    Theory.  121 

universal  power  would  belong  to  the  absolute,  and  so 
would  be  "  unknowable."  And  then  Mr.  Spencer 
would  be  bound  to  condemn  and  utterly  cast  away  his 
"unified"  philosophy,  for  precisely  the  same  reason 
which  has  made  him  reject  natural  theology.  His  suc- 
cess must  be  suicidal,  and  so  it  is  ;  but  this  makes  no 
difference  with  Mr.  Spencer. 

What,  then,  is  the  single  power  with  which  this  phi- 
losophy is  to  be  constructed  ?  It  is  material  force.  He 
intends  us>  to  take  the  word  in  the  literal  sense  of 
mechanical  or  astronomical  science.  Force  is  Mr. 
Spencer's  God.  There  is  but  one  cause  in  the  uni- 
verse, force  ;  and  there  is  but  one  kind  of  effect  in  the 
universe,  motion.  Is  not  the  ultimate  idea  of  force  an 
unconditioned  one,  and  therefore  "  unthinkable  ?"  and 
is  not  motion,  in  its  ultimate  conception,  equally  so? 
Mr.  Spencer  admits  it  emphatically.  Yet  this  unthink- 
able cause  and  effect  constructs  the  whole  philosophy 
of  him,  who  is  too  philosophic  to  have  any  philosophy 
of  an  absolute  or  a  finite  Spirit,  because  these  are  "un- 
knowable." Why  this  ?  No  adequate  reason  appears 
in  the  whole  of  his  speculations,  except  that  Mr.  Spen- 
cer appears  not- to  like  the  Christian's  God  or  his  own 
soul,  and  he  prefers  Force. 

The  Titanic  enterprise  which  he  then  proposes  to 
himself  is,  to  construct  the  whole  universe, — material 
and  spiritual,  with  all  its  beings  and  powers,  with  all  its 
varied  and  opposite  effects,  with  its  miracles  of  wise 
design  and  wise  providence, — by  the  sole  action  of  blind 
force.  The  attempt  is  designedly  termed  Titanic  ;  such 
it  is  in  its  audacity  and  in  its  result.  The  Titans,  a 
species  of  hybrid  monsters,  vainly  proposed  to  reach 
the  seat  of  God,  which  true  science  has  lilted  to  the 
fixed  stars,  by  piling  one  or  two  fifth  -  rate  earthly 
mountains  upon  each  other.  Mr.  Spencer  employs  a 
certain  abnormal  and  diseased  ability  in  inventing  a 
certain  heap  of  suppositions  and  imaginations,  and  com- 


122  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

bining  them  together,  with  no  result  save  that  self-con- 
tradiction which  I  have  pointed  out.  His  structure  is 
briefly  this  : 

Man's  consciousness  seems  to  give  him  sensations 
and  the  remembered  concepts  of  them.  Like  Comte,  he 
grants  that  it  is  impossible  for  a  mind  to  construe  its 
own  ideas  at  all,  without  some  general  principle  which 
we  must  needs  begin  with  as  a  priori  to  the  process  of 
construction.  The  mind,  then,  must  assume  some  prin- 
ciple as  '"  provisionally  true."  The  warrant  which  we 
get,  that  it  and  its  corollaries  are  really  true,  is  the  con- 
gruity  afterwards  ascertained  experimentally  between 
them  and  facts.  When  this  congruity  is  found  to  be 
universal, — that  is,  is  tried  by  all  human  experience  with- 
out meeting  with  a  breach, — then  it  makes  our  system 
of  cognitions  practically  valid.  Such  a  system  would 
evidently  make  of  all  our  science  an  inverted  pyramid. 
One  obvious  consequence  would  be,  that  no  knowledge 
would  be  thoroughly  settled  as  valid  until  all  knowledge 
was  acquired.  But  would  not  the  mind  which  attained 
to  this  be  literally  omniscient?  Undoubtedly.  Omnis- 
cience, however,  is  an  infinite  thing,  and  must  by  Mr. 
Spencer  be  remanded  to  the  position  of  the  "  unknow- 
able." So  that  valid  knowledge  would  be,  on  this 
scheme,  impossible.  Nor  can  he  plead  that  as  the  con- 
gruities  of  the  provisional  hypothesis  with  experimental 
facts  widened,  their  evidence  would  tend  towards  prob- 
abilities so  high  as  to  be  practically  valid.  This  is  a 
confusion  of  thought  which  comes  from  an  inaccurate 
comparison  of  this  supposed  process  with  the  processes 
of  the  physicist,  in  testing  a  physical  hypothesis  by 
physical  experiments.  That  they  are  fundamentally 
different,  is  made  plain  by  a  very  obvious  remark  :  that 
without  some  a  priori  principle  to  proceed  upon,  the 
physicist  could  not  make  that  experimental  verification 
at  all.  Thus,  Dr.  Franklin  made  the  hypothesis  that 
lightning  might  be  electricity,  and  then  tested  it  by 


Evolution    Theory.  123 

experiment.  But  no  experimental  test  could  possibly 
have  any  certain  force,  except  on  the  postulate  that  like 
causes  produce  like  effects  !  Experiment  cannot  apply 
a  standard  to  its  own  prior  standard.  This  whole 
theory  of  ascertaining  provisional  hypotheses  is,  then, 
a  delusion  in  Sensualistic  hands. 

Spencer  seems,  in  other  places,  to  perceive  this  ;  and 
hence,  in  all  the  subsequent  parts  of  his  work,  he  loudly 
declares  that  he  has  an  a  priori  truth  which  is  unde- 
monstrable  because  self-evident  and  necessary,  and  which 
is  the  all-unifying  principle  of  science.  This  is,  that 
Force  is  universally  persistent.  Its  meaning  is,  that  no 
element  of  force  ever  perishes  or  really  ceases,  any- 
where, or  in  all  time  ;  but  it  is  only  transmuted  into 
some  other  form  or  forms.  Another  truth,  which  is 
rather  involved  in  this  than  drawn  from  it,  is  that  like 
causes  must  universally  produce  like  effects.  This  is 
evidently  what  Mr.  Spencer  means  by  his  self-evident 
proposition,  that  law  is  universally  uniform.  The  same 
first  truth  involves  the  conclusions  that  matter  is  inde- 
structible ;  and  that  all  motion  is  continuous.  When 
the  motion  of  a  mass  seems  to  terminate,  it  is  only  be- 
cause the  motion  has  become  molecular.  If  a  ball  that 
was  just  now  moving,  has  been  stopped,  it  is  only  be- 
cause the  atoms  of  the  body  that  stopped  it,  and  perhaps 
of  the  ball,  are  now  quiverin  ;  somehow  with  an  amount 
of  molecular  motion,  invisible  to  our  eyes,  exactly  equal 
to  the  former  motion  of  the  ball.  Still  another  principle, 
which  he  holds  to  be  directly  involved  in  his  grand  first 
truth,  is  that  bunglingly  termed  by  his  brethren  the 
correlation  of  forces.  He  expresses  it  more  accurately 
by  asserting  that  any  one  mode  of  force  may  be  trans- 
formed into  any  other,  and  will  be  found  equivalent 
thereto.  This,  then,  is  his  %  grand  first  truth  :  Force 
universally  persistent,  and  as  involved  immediately  in 
this  :  The  connection  of  cause  and  effect  absolutely  and 
forever  invariable  ;  and,  The  transformation  and  equiv- 


124  SensuaKslic  Philosophy. 

alency  of  forces.  Grant  the  previous  assumption,  the 
first  principle  before  the  first,  which  is  and  remains  a 
sheer  assumption,  that  mechanical  force  is  the  sole 
power  (involving  the  other  absurd  assumptions,  that 
there  is  but  one  substance,  matter ;  and  that  there  is 
neither  spirit  nor  God) ;  the  ideas  are  consistent 
enough.  If  force  is  absolutely  persistent,  then,  when  a 
given  force  seems  to  pass  into  an  effect,  that  effect  is 
but  a  new  form  of  the  same  force,  and  somehow  equiv- 
alent thereto.  But  this  will  be  further  tested  at  a  suit- 
able time.  What  we  should  remark  here,  is  this  singular 
fact :  that  Mr.  Spencer's  first,  universal,  necessary,  self- 
evident  intuition,  the  universal  persistency  of  force, 
should  be  a  doctrine  only  surmised,  in  our  day,  as  the 
last  deduction  of  a  comparison  of  many  physical  sciences. 
Truly,  in  this  new  atheistic  judgment,  "  the  last  are  first, 
and  the  first  last ! "  Still  more  singular  is  it  that  Mr. 
Spencer  should  himself  argue  deductively  to  prove  his 
own  first  truth  !  He  will  excuse  this  marvelous  logic, 
by  saying  that  it  is  the  very  glory  of  it  to  find  that 
which  was  first  in  analysis  of  laws  is  also  last  in  their 
synthesis  :  that  here  is  the  crowning  congruity.  I  re- 
turn to  the  charge  with  the  question  :  If  this  proposi- 
tion is  so  necessary  and  self-evident,  how  is  it  that  Mr. 
Spencer's  friends,  the  physicists,  only  began  to 'suspect 
it  in  our  own  generation  ?  And  how  can  a  first  truth, 
which,  as  being  a  first  truth,  cannot  have  any  premise 
behind  it,  be  what  this  proposition  historically  is  (if  it 
is  a  truth  at  all),  a  final  deduction  from  premises  by  a 
multitude  of  experiments  ? 

Before  I  pass  on,  I  will  also  show,  out  of  Mr.  Spen- 
cer's own  mouth,  the  utter  inconsistency  of  his  whole 
objection  against  our  natural  theology.  If  there  were 
any  God,  he  would  be  "  tlje  Unconditioned,"  and  thus 
absolutely  unknowable.  Hence,  to  predicate  any  at- 
tributes of  him,  to  propound  any  doctrines  whatsoever 
about  him,  to  offer  any  service  whatever  to  him,  is  of 


Evolution    Theory.  125 

the  real  nature  of  religious  impiety;  and  Mr.  Spencer's 
practical  atheism  is  much  the  more  "  religious."  But 
he  expressly  admits  that  this  Force-God  of  his  is  equally 
unconditioned,  in  reality,  and  equally  unknowable. 
Ought  not  Mr.  Spencer  to  conclude,  then,  that  it  is  bad 
science  to  propound  any  doctrine  about  it?  So  it 
seems  to  a  plain  mind.  About  the  one  "  Uncondition- 
ed," infinite,  personal  spirit,  Mr.  S.  forbids  our  having 
a  single  doctrine,  or  idea,  or  feeling,  simply  because  it 
is  unconditioned.  About  his  "  Unconditioned,"  uni- 
versally persistent  Force,  he  commands  us  to  hold  a 
vast  multitude  of  doctrines;  to  hold,  in  fact,  all  the 
knowledge  we  have  at  all !  But,  some  Evolutionist 
will  say,  Here  is  the  grand  difference  :  Mr.  S.  sees  that 
force  reveals  itself  by  its  effects,  directly  to  sense-per- 
ception, our  only  faculty  of  cognition.  I  reply,  that 
Mr.  Spencer  himself  holds  and  teaches  most  emphatic- 
ally, that  perception  is  as  merely  relative,  and  as  utterly 
incompetent  to  have  any  valid  cognition  of  uncondi- 
tioned reality,  as  any  other  supposed  faculty.  He  him- 
self declares  (correctly,  so  far)  that  it  is  just  as  impossi- 
ble for  perception  to  cognize  a  property  without  think- 
ing an  unconditioned  notion  of  true  being  of  which  it 
is  a  property  ;  as  it  is  impossible  fbr  a  priori  reason  to 
cognize  being  as  being,  without  doing  so  through  some 
perceived  property.  But  Mr.  S.  enables  us  to  demon- 
strate his  own  inconsistency  by  his  own  argument.  In 
Ch.  IV.  Principles,  §25,  having  asserted  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  the  phenomenal  is  merely  relative,  he 
teaches  us  that  this  makes  no  practical  difference 
against  its  utility.  For,  if  it  is  regularly  true  that  our 
perceptions  show  us  certain  phenomenal  antecedents 
immediately  followed  by  certain  results  ;  we  can  take 
our  measures  accordingly,  just  as  accurately  as  though 
we  knew  (what  he  thinks  we  can  never  know)  that  our 
perceptions  corresponded  exactly  with  the  real  being 
behind  the  phenomena.  Now,  he  holds  that  all  these 


126  Sens  :;alis  tic  Philosophy. 

pJicnomena  are  the  manifestations  of  his  Force-God. 
But  that  is  the  Unknowable  "  Unconditioned/'  Yet 
our  apprehensions  of  its  manifestations  can  be  prac- 
tically trustworthy  as  though  it  were  not  the  unknow- 
able!  Why,  then,  may  not  an  infinite  personal  Spirit 
make  manifestations  to  our  consciousness,  which  may 
be  equally  trustworthy  ?  The  inconsistency  of  this 
position  is  made  all  the  more  crushing  for  Mr.  Spencer, 
by  this :  that  whereas  he  knows  so  little  about  his 
"  Unknowable,"  that  he  dares  not  ascribe  to  it  any 
intelligence  whatever ;  we  know  that  our  God  is  all 
intelligence,  and,  therefore,  infinitely  able  to  make  all 
kinds  of  manifestations  to  our  finite  consciousness  which 
His  benevolence  prompts. 

But  let  Mr.  Spencer  proceed  with  his  evolution  of 
his  theory.  Having  gotten  the  intuition  (by  deduc- 
tion!)  of  the  universally  and  eternally  persistent  force, 
he  derives  from  it  all  other  ideas.  Our  notion  of  space 
is  our  "  consciousness  of  coexistent  positions  ;"  position 
having  been  previously  revealed  in  consciousness, 
simply  as  the  ubi  of  a  force,  or  point  of  force.  Our  no- 
tion of  matter  is  a  "  consciousness  of  coexistent  posi- 
tions that  offer  resistance  ;"  resistance  being  the  mani- 
festation by  which  Force  reveals  itself  to  us.  Matter 
and  space  are  thus  related  :  as  we  are  conscious  of  re- 
sistance in  or  behind  the  coexistent  positions,  or  not. 
This  conception  of  matter,  Mr.  Spencer  has  already 
pronounced  preposterous.  On  p.  52,  3,  "  Principles," 
he  told  us  how  the  physicist  Boscovich  endeavored  to 
relieve  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  matter  by  this  hy- 
pothesis :  that  "  the  constituents  of  matter  are  centres  of 
force,  points  ivithout  dimension,  which  attract  and  repel 
each  other  in  such  wise  as  to  be  kept  at  specific  dis- 
tances apart."  How  does  this  differ  from  Mr.  Spencer's 
definition  of  matter,  as  "  coexistent  positions  offering 
resistance?"  Boscovich's  "points"  are  obviously 
Spencer's  "  positions,"  and  Boscovich's  "  force "  is 


Evolution    Theory.  127 

Spencer's  "  resistance."  But  to  the  former  definition 
he  objects  (justly),  that  "  a  centre  of  force  without  ex- 
tension is  unthinkable ;  answering  to  these  words  we 
can  form  nothing  more  than  a  symbolic  conception  of 
the  illegitimate  order."  Then,  obviously,  his  own  con- 
ception of  space  is  only  an  illegitimate  one,  Yet  this  is 
made  one  of  the  corner-stones  of  his  system.  Time  is 
but  experienced  succession.  Our  notion  of  material 
motion  is  simply  the  consciousness  of  matter  in  succes- 
sive positions  in  time.  Thus,  these  a  priori  notions  are, 
by  Spencer,  generated  empirically,  as  by  other  Sen- 
sualistic  philosophers,  save  that  he  employs  novel  and 
obscure  phraseolog}T. 

Out  of  these  unknowables,  Mr.  Spencer  is  now  pre- 
pared to  construct  the  known  Universe.  He  next 
deduces  the  additional  principles  that  every  motion  is 
along  the  line  of  greatest  traction  or  least  resistance  ; 
that  all  motion  is  in  its  nature  oscillatory  ;  that  as  mat- 
ter concentrates,  motion  dissipates  itself,  and  as  motion 
concentrates  itself,  matter,  is  dissipated.  In  this  last 
pair  we  have  the  secret  of  the  whole  universe,  inorgan- 
ic, living,  and  rational.  Force  does  and  undoes  it  all, 
concentrating  matter  and  dissipating  motion,  or  dissi- 
pating matter  as  it  concentrates  motion.  These  two 
laws  made  all  the  suns  and  planets  upon  the  nebular 
hypothesis.  (Although  Mr.  S.  does  not  think,  in  the 
earlier  part  of  the  book,  that  the  nebular  hypothesis  is 
proved).  They  also  make  all  the  plants  and  animals, 
and  all  the  (so  called)  minds.  At  this  point  Mr.  Dar- 
win comes  in  with  his  evolution  hypothesis  for  animated 
nature.  With  his  help,  Mr.  S.  easily  generated,  during 
immense  tracts  of  ages,  first,  protozoa,  then,  in  succes- 
sion, the  higher  forms  up  to  man.  The  two  oscillatory 
laws,  with  the  mutual  reactions  of  organisms  and  their 
environments,  the  law  of  variation,  or  instability  of  the 
homogeneous,  the  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  with 
the  law  of  heredity,  account  for  the  gradual  evolutions 


128  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

of  man,  with  all  his  conscience,  intellect,  arid  will,  out 
of  the  most  rudimental  insect.  If  we  examine  that 
rudimental  life,  we  find  nothing  but  a  sensibility,  the 
nascent  source  of  a  tactual  sense.  The  changing  en- 
vironment acts  upon  this  little  animated  mass,  by  a 
series  of  forces.  The  mass  responds  by  corresponding 
changes.  Hence  the  growth  of  the  individual.  From 
the  same  general  cause,  the  species  differentiates  and 
some  members  grow  new  organs.  The  tactual  sense  is 
gradually  diversified  by  the  varied  influences  of  the 
environment,  into  other  senses.  Out  of  these,  again, 
countless  impressions  stored  up  in  the  brain,  and  .trans- 
mitted by  inheritance,  gradually  evolve  mind  ;  and  the 
descendant  of  the  dull  mollusk  is,  at  perhaps  the  ten- 
millionth  remove,  a  Newton ! 

Spencer's  sociology  is  fashioned  precisely  as  is  his 
psychology,  out  of  the  impressions  of  force.  Incredible 
as  it  may  seem,  tribes,  societies,  and  nations  are  with 
him  literal  bodies  ;  social  affections  are  adhesive  attrac- 
tions, and  the  common  movements  of  will  and  purpose 
in  bodies  of  men  are  literal  forces.  The  reader  will 
remember  how  Spencer  flouts  our  more  derivative 
conceptions,  as  mere*  "  symbolic  conceptions."  But 
with  him  the  metaphorical  language  which  calls  nations 
''bodies,"  and  moral  principles  "forces,"  are  perfectly 
literal ! 

The  whole  is  only  an  unhealthy  dream.  One  of  the 
most  astounding  things  connected  with  this  monstrous 
aggregation  of  confusions  and  assumptions,  is  the  ap- 
plause it  has  received  from  some  critics  professedly 
Christian.  Mr.  Spencer  tells  us,  in  conclusion,  that  his 
materialism  must  not  be  regarded  -like  the  gross  sys- 
tems of  earlier  infidels,  who,  when  they  said  man  was 
mere  matter,  employed  tHe  word  in  its  lowest  sense, 
and  with  its  heaviest  associations.  His  materialism 
proposes  to  level  up,  and  not  to  level  down ;  to  sub- 
limate matter,  and  not  to  degrade  spirit.  He  intimates 


Evolution    Theory.  129 

that  his  "  Force  "  may  answer  as  well  for  spirit,  as 
spirit  itself,  could  we  only  see  with  his  eyes.  For  after 
all,  his  "  Matter  "  is  only  a  manifestation  of  force,  and 
has  no  more  substantive  reality  than  our  spirit.  So,  it 
is  with  him  a  favorite  idea,  a  "symbolic  conception  "  to 
call  his  absolute  negation  of  belief  touching-  this  "  Un- 
knowable," "  religion."  For  all  this  some  Christian 
critics  are  thankful,  and  are  quite  consoled  that  Mr. 
Spencer,  in  demolishing  all  former  beliefs,  has  left  us 
thus  much.  They  gravely  propose  that  Christianity 
and  unbelief  shall  meet  together  upon  Mr.  Spencer's  as 
a  common  ground !  Whether  this  be  blindness,  or 
cowardice,  it  is  equally  amazing  and  deplorable.  For, 
in  the  first  place,  Spencer's  system  is  overtly  anti-Chris- 
tian. He  makes  no  secret  of  his  contempt  for  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptures  ;  and  it  is  hard  to  discover  any  doctrine 
they  reveal  which  he  does  not  flout,  from  creation 
downwards.  While  the  Scriptures  command  us  to 
"  acquaint  ourselves  with  God,  and  be  at  peace,"  and 
while  our  Saviour  declares  that  "this  is  life  eternal, 
that  we  might  know  Him  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  whom  He  hath  sent;"  the  whole  of  Mr.  Spen- 
cer's theolog}^  is  summed  up  in  this  one  point :  that  it 
is  irreligious  to  attempt  to  know  anything  about  Him. 
Second :  It  is  a  system  of  practical  atheism.  For, 
some  knowledge  is  in  order  to  any  service.  If  we  can 
verify  no  attribute  of  God,  then  we  cannot  trust  Him, 
nor  pray  to  Him,  nor  obey  Him.  In  a  word,  that  which 
is  to  us  absolutely  unknowable,  is  practically  non- 
existent. Third,  Mr.  Spencer  leaves  no  possibility  of  an 
immortality  for  man.  The  human  being  is,  to  him, 
simply  an  organized  mass.  There  is  no  spiritual  sub- 
stance. The  very  highest  functions  of  reason,  taste, 
and  conscience,  are  nothing  but  modifications  of  Force  ; 
literally  the  same  force  which,  as  gravity,  weights  the 
grocer's  scale,  or  the  donkey's  cart,  or  as  caloric  soft- 
ens the  iron  and  expands  the  steam  ;  literally  trans- 
9 


130  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

formable  into  these,  and  correlated  to  them.  When 
the  organizing  force  is  transmuted,  then  the  man  is 
subject  to  that  "  absorption  of  motion  and  diffusion  of 
matter,"  which  is  Mr.  Spencer's  idea  of  death ;  and  it 
is  as  much  the  death  of  the  mind  as  of  the  brain  and 
muscles.  Let  Mr.  Spencer  tell  the  world  as  much  as 
he  pleases,  that  his  materialism  levels  upward,  and  not 
downward  ;  that  instead  of  debasing  spirit  he  would 
have  us  refine  matter  into  the  universal  "  Force  ;  "  still 
with  all  sinners  of  the  common  grade,  his  doctrine  will 
have  the  simple  result  of  imbruting  those  who  adopt 
it.  For  their  common  sense  will  persist  in  believing 
that  force  is  a  mechanical  power  contrasted  with  the 
spiritual ;  they  will  not  believe  the  contradiction  which 
would  persuade  them  that  the  same  species  of  power 
which  obeys  the  mechanical  law  in  the  machine,  and 
the  chemical  law  in  the  laboratory,  is  also  subjected  to 
the  spiritual  law  of  conscience  in  the  man.  Mr.  Spen- 
cer may  persuade  himself  of  this  "symbolic  concept;" 
the  common  sense  of  his  pupils  will  not.  Last,  his 
scheme,  in  its  sublimated  form,  is  only  a  vicious  aspect 
of  the  vicious  scheme  of  pantheism.  "  Matter,  motion, 
and  force"  contain  all  the  phenomenal  of  all  kinds; 
and  these  "  are  but  symbols  of  the  Unknown  Reality." 
Mr.  Spencer  disclaims  all  positive  conclusions  for 
materialism,  or  for  idealism  ?  True.  But  he  shuts  us 
up  to  the  two  alternatives  of  absolute  materialism,  or 
absolute  idealism.  The  only  choice  he  gives  us,  is  be- 
tween the  two  forms  of  pantheism,  either  of  which  is 
practical  atheism. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

PHYSIOLOGICAL   MATERIALISM. 

n~^HE  great  extension  of  the  department  of  physi- 
ology, especially  as  combined  with  the  doctrines 
of  comparative  anatomy,  has  occasioned  another 
school  of  materialism.  Its  advocates  are  in  full  sym- 
pathy with  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  and  with  the 
recent  evolution  doctrine  ;  and  when  they  attempt  to 
systematize  those  functions  of  the  human  being  which  we 
call  mental  functions,  their  method  is  precisely  that  of 
the  Sensualist.  This  movement  of  opinion  is  not  new 
or  peculiar  to  our  own  age;  but  had,  in  the  last  cen- 
tury, an  advocate  at  least  as  ingenious  as  any  of  the 
recent,  in  Hartley.  The  result  of  physiological  mate- 
rialism is  also  to  recognize  no  other  mind  than  nerve- 
matter.  It  begins  with  these  facts  asserted  by  compar- 
ative anatomy  :  that  as  we  proceed  with  dissections  of 
animal  bodies,  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  species, 
wherever  we  reach  a  more  complete,  or  better  devel- 
oped nervous  system,  we  see  in  the  living  animal  abler 
instincts  and  fuller  powers.  Those  species  which  have 
least  nerve  and  brain,  have  also  the  fewest  and  poorest 
instinctive  powers.  Those  which  approach  nearest  to 
man  in  development  of  the  brain,  and  completeness  of 
the  nervous  system,  come  nearest  to  him  in  intelligence. 
Hence,  they  attempt  to  draw  the  inference,  that  this 
nerve-matter  is  the  mind — that  thought,  feeling,  and 
volition  are  but  refined,  perhaps,  inexplicable  molecu- 
lar functions,  or  results  of  such  functions,  even  as  mus- 
cular contractions  are. 


132  Sensuaiistic  Philosophy. 

The  same  conclusion  is  attempted  to  be  drawn  from 
observations  upon  the  human  brain  and  nerves.  Thus  : 
it  is  claimed  that  when  certain  injuries  are  inflicted  on 
the  brain,  as  long  as  they  continue,  all  mental  functions 
are  wholly  suspended.  If  the  nutrition  and  stimula- 
tion of  the  brain  by  a  circulation  of  nutritive  blood  is 
impaired,  the  powers  of  thought  are  impaired  ;  if  the 
circulation  is  enriched,  the  vigor  of  mind  is  increased. 
Again :  it  is  held  that  molecular  functions  of  brain  attend 
all  the  abstract  and  subjective  processes  of  thought,  just 
as  truly  as  the  sensitive.  It  is  supposed  that  brain-ac- 
tion must  accompany  the  abstract  conception  of  God,  of 
vacant  space,  of  eternity,  in  the  man  who  meditates  with 
every  sense  closed,  as  truly  as  it  attends  the  hearing  of 
a  trumpet,  or  sight  of  a  landscape.  This  is  inferred  from 
the  fact  that  the  passage  of  such  inward  thoughts  moves 
the  features.  This  change  of  countenance  would  not 
occur,  they  argue,  unless  the  muscles  were  moved  by 
their  nerves  ;  but  these  nerves  radiate  from  the  brain. 
Again  :  they  profess  to  have  ascertained  that  the  con- 
tinued activity  of  the  mind  in  abstract  thought  increases 
the  amount  of  certain  phosphatic  salts  excreted  from 
the  nerve  tissues,  and  thrown  out  of. the  body  by  its 
emunctories.  The  inference  from  this  is,  that  molecu- 
lar action  must  be  greater  in  the  brain  during,  and  by 
reason  of,  the  mental  exertions.  Does  not  the  corre- 
spondence of  these  facts,  asks  the  materialist,  point  to  the 
conclusion  that  mental  activities  are  nothing  else  than 
molecular  activities  of  nerve-matter? 

Yet  more  ingenious  surmises  are  drawn  from  certain 
automatic  actions  of  our  limbs,  and  from  experiments 
upon  the  relations  of  the  different  masses  or  organs  of 
the  brain  by  vivisection.  When  men  walk  along  the 
way,  occupied  by  thought  or  conversation,  do  their 
minds  emit  a  distinct  volition  for  every  movement  of 
each  foot  ?  Especially  when  one  continues  to  walk  on, 
after  he  is  wrapped  in  profound  reverie,  who  can  be- 


Physiological  Materialism.  133 

lieve  that  each  motion  is  prompted  by  a  distinct  mental 
volition  emitted  by  the  spirit,  when  consciousness 
wholly  fails  to  testify  to  its  emission?  It  is  inferred, 
therefore,  that  the  nervous  matter  in  the  sensorial  centre 
has  an  automatic  power  of  sending-  its  motive  influence 
down  to  the  muscles,  without  the  perpetual,  immediate, 
and  voluntary  supervision  of  the  mind.  This  result 
materialists  suppose  to  be  favorable  to  their  conclu- 
sion. 

But  let  us  look  a  little  more  closely  at  that  complex 
nerve-organ  usually  called  the  brain.  It  is  found,  on 
dissection  and  experiment,  to  be  not  one,  but  three 
organs ;  all,  indeed,  alike  in  being  composed  of  nerve- 
matter  ;  yet  distinguishable  in  place  and  function,  and 
each  of  the  three  complex.  First,  at  the  base  of  the 
brain,  or  just  over  the  spot  at  which  the  spinal  cord 
enters  the  bottom  of  the  skull,  is  a  small,  but  compli- 
cated, body  of  nerve-matter,  from  which  the  spinal  cord 
descends  as  a  species  of  narrowed  continuation,  and  to 
which  all  tJie  different  nerves  of  sensation  directly  converge. 
From  this  same  centre  all  the  efferent  nerves  of  motion 
also  diverge,  the  most  of  them  through  the  spinal  cord. 
This  cluster  of  ganglions  is  evidently,  in  the  immediate 
sense,  the  sensorium,  the  centre  of  sensations.  Com- 
parative  anatomy  shows  that  it  is  the  rudimental  source 
of  brain-structure  ;  for  as  observation  descends  from 
man  to  less  perfect  animals,  this  cluster  is  still  there, 
at  least  rudi mentally,  while  the  two  other  clusters  of 
ganglions  disappear  more  and  more  the  lower  we  go. 
In  man  and  other  higher  animals  there  lies,  behind  the 
sensorial  centre,  a  mass  of  nerve-matter  called  the  cere- 
bellum, which  experiment  and  comparative  anatomy 
seem  to  indicate  as  having  no  necessary  connection 
with  mental  processes,  but  as  a  nervous  store-house  for 
the  species  of  nervous  influence  which  the  sensorial 
centres  transmit  to  the  muscles.  On  the  top  and  in 
front  of  these  two  smaller  organs  in  the  human  skull 


1 34  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

lies  the  largest  organ  of  all,  the  cerebrum,  or  brain 
proper.  This  consists  of  several  distinct  lobes,  arranged 
in  two  hemispheres,  the  whole  composing  the  great 
mass  which  mainly  fills  the  skull.  It  is  formed  of  soft 
nerve- matter,  with  the  vesicular  substance  bearing  a 
larger  ratio  to  the  fibrous  than  in  the  spinal  cord,  and 
even  lavishly  supplied  with  blood.  It  also  has  its 
numerous  fibres,  which  seem  to  converge  towards  the 
neck  or  joining-place,  where  it  connects  with  the  sen- 
sorial  cluster  beneath,  even  as  the  various  nerves  from 
the  limbs  and  chest  and  organs  of  sensation  converge 
upwards  into  the  same  sensorial  cluster.  To  the  cere- 
brum no  nerve  of  sense  or  motion  runs  directly  !  It  has  no 
feeling,  and  can  be  sliced  away  by  the  surgeon,  without 
the  creature's  knowing  it,  save  as  one  knows  when  his 
hair  or  nail  is  cut.  It  has  been  found  not  necessary  to  the 
functions  of  animal  life  /  for,  provided  it  can  be  re- 
moved without  fatal  lesion  of  the  other  vital  organs, 
and  especially  of  the  sensorial  cluster  just  underneath, 
the  creature  lives  on  without  any  cerebrum — breathes, 
eats,  and  digests  food,  just  as  before.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  let  this  great  cerebral  mass  be  cut  away  or  dis- 
organized by  disease,  or  even  unduly  compressed,  then 
merit al  functions  are  at  once  interrupted.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  the  anatomist's  knife  interferes  with  the 
sensorial  cluster,  the  vital  functions,  seemingly  so  inde- 
pendent of  the  cerebrum,  are  at  once  interfered  with, 
and  the  slightest  wound  of  the  central  nucleus  of  that 
cluster  is  instant  death. 

Such  is  %a  brief  view  of  the  relations  of  the  three 
organs.  From  this  the  materialists  would  have  us  be- 
lieve that  thought  is  as  truly  a  nerve-function  as  the 
molecular  affection  of  the  sensorium,  as  brought  to  it  by 
the  afferent  or  received  from  it  by  the  efferent  nervous 
fibres.  The  matter  affected,  say  they,  is  of  the  same 
kind  ;  why  not  regard  the  function  as  the  same  ? 
Psychologists  appeal  to  "  consciousness  "  to  reveal  to 


Physiological  Materialism.  135 

them  the  functions  and  nature  of  mind.  Why  not 
regard  consciousness  itself  as  nerve-function?  If  mind 
were  a  different  and  independent  substance  from  brain, 
would  not  its  consciousness  reveal  to  it  the  interaction 
of  brain  as  a  distinct  substance  and  subordinate  instru- 
ment, even  as  consciousness  shows  to  us  the  fingers  by 
which  we  execute  a  conscious  volition  or  derive  a 
tactual  sensation  ? 

I  have  thus  stated  the  main  grounds  of  the  material- 
istic hypothesis,  as  they  are  drawn  from  physiology, 
and  advocated  by  such  writers  as  Huxley  and  Flint ; 
and  I  have  allowed  them  at  least  as  much  plausibility 
as  they  are  entitled  to  claim.  I  will  only  add  here,  that 
in  the  judgment  of  still  more  learned  physiologists,  this 
conclusion  is  only  plausible,  and  not  true.  Thus,  Vir- 
choWy  of  Berlin,  who  cannot  be  suspected  of  sharing 
any  theological  prejudice,  is  quoted  in  "  Nature "  of 
November,  1874,  as  saying :  "  Of  all  kinds  of  dogmatism, 
the  materialistic  is  the  most  dangerous,  because  it-denies 
its  own  dogmatism,  and  appears  in  the  garb  of  science; 
because  it  professes  to  rest  on  fact,  when  it  is  but  specu- 
lation ;  and  because  it  attempts  to  annex  territories  to 
natural  science,  before  they  have  been  fairly  conquered." 
Dalton  says:  "The  hemispherical  ganglia  are  simply 
the  instruments  through  which  the  intellectual  powers 
manifest  themselves."  Draper  not  only  asserts  the  im- 
materiality of  the  mind  on  grounds  of  common  sense 
and  sound  philosophy,  but  he  founds  an  ingenious* 
physical  demonstration  on  the  relation  of  the  cerebrum 
to  the  sensorial  cluster,  to  prove  that  mind  is  a  sub- 
stance distinct  from  brain.  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter,  the 
most  profound  and  voluminous  English  writer  on  the 
physiology  of  man,  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  spirituality 
of  the  soul  and  of  God.  Says  Dr.  James  L.  Cabell : 
"  That  cerebral  action  accompanies  all  mental  action  ; 
this  is  absolutely  all  that  physiology  has  rendered 
probable.  It  has  not  demonstrated  nor  rendered  prob- 


136  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

able  the  position  that  cerebral  changes  precede  and 
produce  mental  states.  And,  even  in  the  case  of  the 
perceptive  faculties,  how  can  physiology  ever  bridge 
over  the  chasm  between  the  final  physical  antecedent, 
the  molecular  tremors  of  the  organic  instrument,  and 
the  succeeding  incongruous  phenomena  of  perception 
and  thought  ?  Whatever  discoveries  the  physiologist 
as  such  may  make,  there  must  always  remain  this  mys- 
tery, which  it  is  an  impertinence  for  him  to  undertake 
to  solve." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SPIRITUALITY  OF  THE   MIND. 

r  I  ^HE  Sensualistic  philosophy  of  our  age  has  now 
•*•  passed  before  us  in  a  brief,  but  faithful  review. 
Let  us 'com  pare  it  with  the  same  system  in  the  eight- 
eenth century.  We  have  seen  this  doctrine  recom- 
mencing in  the  early  part  of  this  century  with  Mr. 
James  Mill,  the  Condillac  of  English  philosophy,  and 
supported  by  the  talents  of  his  more  influential  son, 
J.  S.  Mill.  It  has  regularly  fulfilled  its  destiny,  in 
passing,  in  the  hands  of  the  Evolutionists,  into  mate- 
rialism, and  in  those  of  Biichner  and  his  supporters, 
into  avowed  atheism.  If  history  has  any  lessons,  and 
if  moral  causes  have  any  regularity,  nothing  is  lacking 
but  the  further  diffusion  of  the  doctrine  to  give  us  again 
its  legitimate  conclusion,  a  nineteenth  century  "  Reign 
of  Terror."  International  Communism  has,  indeed,  al- 
ready given  a  prelibation  from  the  pit,  in  its  short-lived 
reign  in  Paris  ;  and  this  society  is  the  avowed  patron 
of  this  animal  philosophy.  If  anything  can  be  done, 
then,  by  perspicuous  and  faithful  criticism,  to  expose 
its  groundless  pretensions  and  destroy  its  credit,  he 
who  accomplishes  this  will  be  rendering  a  priceless 
service  to  humanity,  to  just  legislation,  to  sound  morals, 
and  to  Christian  theology.  The  conclusion  to  which 
this  false  philosophy  sought  to  lead  us,  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, naturally  demands  our  first  attention.  For  it  seems 
necessary  that  we  attempt  to  settle  the  question  whether 
man  has  a  Mind  (and  not  merely  a  set  of  organs),  before 
we  examine  the  powers  of  that  substance.  We  must 

(i37) 


138  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

proceed  next,  then,  to  show  that  the  mind  is  a  distinct 
spiritual  substance,  and  to  examine  and  refute  the  pre- 
tended grounds  on  which  materialists  impugn  this  con- 
clusion of  the  almost  universal  common  sense  of  civil- 
ized men.  The  method  of  the  remaining  criticism  will 
be  independent  of  the  order  of  our  previous  review.  I 
shall  endeavor  to  advance,  in  my  own  arrangement,  the 
correct  doctrines  of  philosophy  as  to  the  origin  of  our 
cognitions,  indicating,  as  I  go  along,  their  application 
to  the  refutation  of  the  various  errors. 

The  science  into  which  we  are  about  to  enter  will 
probably  never  be  an  exact  one.  The  Christian  be- 
liever may  hence  raise  the  question  :  Will  it  not  be 
better,  then,  to  draw  our  creed  as  to  the  soul's  nature 
and  destiny,  from  the  "  more  sure  word  of  prophecy?" 
1  reply  with  an  emphatic  affirmative,  and  nothing  can  be 
farther  from  my  thoughts  than  to  offer  him  mere  phi- 
losophic demonstration  in  lieu  of  the  authority  of  Rev- 
elation. There,  the  spirituality  of  the  soul,  its  immor- 
tality, its  free-agency,  its  responsibility,  the  originality 
of  its  moral  intuitions,  are  all  infallibly  taught.  The 
Christian  needs  no  better  support  for  his  philosophy, 
and  he  knows  that  he  can  nowhere  find  so  good  a  one. 
The  history  of  opinion  has  taught  us  too  clearly  the 
uncertainties  of  human  speculation  on  these  abstract 
subjects  ;  involved  as  they  are  with  the  keenest  prej- 
udices and  interests  of  man's  passions  and  pride.  While 
sound  thinkers  are  substantially  agreed  upon  the  great 
outlines  of  philosophy,  in  details,  there  is  difference 
among  even  them  ;  and  to  the  vagaries  of  false  philoso-, 
phy,  there  seems  no  end.  Here  we  have  experimental 
proof  that  the  powers  of  the  human  mind  are  imper- 
fectly fitted  for  these  inquiries.  But  the  infinite  Mind, 
because  it  is  infinite,  can  communicate  its  testimony  to 
the  finite  on  any  subject  which  does  not  necessarily 
transcend  it,  in  a  way  perfectly  conclusive.  The  un- 
speakable advantage  of  revelation  over  human  science 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  139 

here  appears  from  this :  that  the  problem  of  the  verifi- 
cation of  a  testimony  from  God  to  us,  is  a  single  problem, 
perfectly  definite,  and  perfectly  simple  to  the  right 
heart ;  a  problem  to  which  man's  powers  are  fully  com- 
petent, provided  only  God  presents  His  credentials. 
When  that  one  point  is  settled  [that  God  has  presented 
His  credentials],  our  progress  is  safe  in  His  teachings. 
We  have  only  to  interpret  them  candidly,,  and  we  are 
on  infallible  ground.  But  the  problems  which  philoso- 
phy presents  to  the  mind  of  man  are  manifold,  abstruse, 
and  sundry  of  them  wholly  above  his  grasp.  What, 
then,  is  the  proper  relation  of  philosophy  to  Revela- 
tion ?  It  is  obviously  that  of  an  obedient  and  grateful 
handmaid.  We  are  not  to  bend  God's  testimony  to 
our  reasonings,  but  to  bend  them  to  His  testimony. 

The  question  then  recurs  :  whether  philosophy  should 
have  any  value  with  the  Christian  believer.  The  an- 
swer is,  that  it  has  a  subordinate  value.  It  is  useful 
even  to  him  who  possesses  the  divine  doctrines,  to  see 
the  concurrence  of  man's  own  intelligence,  rightly  ex- 
ercised, with  the  Infallible  Intelligence.  But,  second, 
there  are,  unfortunately,  many  who  reject  the  better 
guidance,  and  are  unwilling  to,  learn  anything  from  it. 
If  we  can  induce  these  persons  to  open  their  eyes  to 
the  heavenly  light,  by  showing  them  how  the  feeble 
beams  of  human  reason  ought  to  shine  towards  it,  we 
have  done  them  service.  Or,  if  we  can  silence  by  the 
feeble  authority  of  reason,  cavils  which  only  had  the 
seeming  support  of  the  same  weak  authority,  we  have 
done  the  cause  of  Truth  a  service.  This  legitimate  at- 
tempt, to  make  philosophy  the  handmaid  of  Christian 
theology,  has  been  sometimes  misunderstood,  as  though 
it  implied  that  the  validity  of  theological  conclusions 
was  dependent  on  the  methods  of  philosophy.  It  has 
even  been  charged  against  the  philosophic  theologian, 
that  he  thus  staked  all  upon  his  philosophy,  to  such  an 
extent  that,  supposing  his  philosophy  dissented  from, 


140  Sensiialistic  Philosophy. 

his  whole  theology  would  lose  its  validity  along  with 
it.  This  is  unjust.  The  theological  conclusions,  if  cor- 
rect, rest  upon  the  divine  testimony.  The  student  is 
not  dependent  upon  the  acceptance  of  any  philosophy 
for  the  power  to  construe  them  aright.  The  faculties 
which  the  Maker  placed  in  him  will  ensure  that,  if  he 
allows  them  to  act  candidly,  whether  he  has  a  psycho- 
logical theory  of  his  own  faculties  or  not.  The  young 
man  is  not  dependent  upon  a  technical  knowledge  of 
anatomy,  for  power  to  use  his  limbs  in  the  gymnastic 
exercise  ;  nature  is  his  teacher  here  ;  she  will  cause 
tendons  and  muscles,  of  whose  existence  he  is  ignorant, 
to  obey  his  volition  implicitly.  Is,  therefore,  anatomy 
valueless?  If  those  muscles  are  wounded  or  diseased  ; 
if  an  indiscreet  or  malicious  master  is  about  to  summon 
the  muscles  to  exertions  which  will  be  found  unnatural 
or  destructive,  then  anatomy  becomes  valuable. 

In  proceeding  to  test  the  nature  of  the  something  in 
us  which  thinks  and  wills,  by  the  verdict  of  conscious- 
ness, I  shall  assume  only  what  is  granted  on  all  hands. 
Human  beings  have  processes  commonly  called  knowl- 
edge, affections,  and  volitions.  It  is  by  consciousness 
that  we  become  aware  of  these  in  ourselves.  So  far, 
all  concur.  But  what  is  consciousness?  Let  us  so  de- 
fine it  as  to  omit  all  the  vexed  questions,  and  to  include 
in  our  postulated  facts  of  consciousness,  nothing  except 
what  all  parties  grant.  Whether  consciousness  be  more 
than  this,  or  not,  it  certainly  includes  this  :  a  cognition 
which  the  something  that  thinks  has  of  its  own  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  volitions.  So,  we  need  not  raise  the  ques- 
tion whether  our  minds  have  any  modifications  which 
remain  out  of  this  self-consciousness.  I  may  safely 
claim  this  of  all  parties:  namely,  that  no  mental  modi- 
fication can  be  so  in  the  mind  as  to  be  subject  of  ob- 
servation and  inference,  without  being  within  the  light 
of  our  self-consciousness.  Again:  no  one  disputes  the 
validity  of  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  as  to  the 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  141 

fact  that  the  mental  state,  or  act,  of  which  he  is  con- 
scious is  really  in  his  mind  at  the  time  he  is  conscious 
of  it.  There  may  possibly  be  debate  of  the  question 
whether  he  construes  that  mental  state,  or  act,  aright ; 
of  the  question  whether  his  mind  had  it  when  it  was 
conscious  of  having  it,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt.  Once 
more,  since  no  state,  or  act,  can  be  so  in  the  mind  as  to 
claim  a  share  of  the  mind's  attention,  save  as  it  is  in  the 
sphere  of  consciousness,  it  follows  that  we  must  be 
equally  indebted  to  this  one  faculty  for  our  cognitions 
of  the  objective  and  the  subjective,  so  far  as  we  are  en- 
titled to  any.  If  this  faculty  is  trustworthy  within  any 
proper  limits,  then  it  must  be  held  as  trustworthy 
everywhere  within  those  proper  limits.  It  is  clear, 
then,  that  the  subjective  testimonies  of  consciousness 
are  not  to  be  rejected  as  invalid,  merely  because  sub- 
jective. Consciousness  itself  is  subjective.  Hence  the 
materialist  who  accepts  the  objective  perceptions  seen 
in  consciousness  with  unquestioning  confidence,  is  not 
to  be  allowed  to  dispute  its  subjective  cognitions,  mere- 
ly because  they  are  subjective.  At  this  point,  we  may 
see  how  erroneous  is  the  assumption  so  quietly  made 
by  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  in  its  profession  and 
claim  of  empiricism.  It  requires  us  to  base  everything 
on  observation;  and  it  is  right,  so  far.  But  when  it 
then  tacitly  assumes  that  only  objective  facts  in  con- 
sciousness are  observed  experimentally,  it  makes  a 
claim  as  preposterous  as  sweeping.  For  it  will  appear 
that  the  subjective  cognitions  revealed  in  consciousness 
are  even  more  truly  facts  observed,  or  experiential,  be- 
cause it  is  only  through  these  that  the  objective  be- 
come experiential. 

The  psychological  argument  for  the  spirituality  of 
the  mind,  from  the  facts  of  consciousness,  is  evidently 
the  conclusive  and  legitimate  one.  For,  let  the  suppo- 
sition that  man  may  possibly  have  an  independent, 
spiritual  mind,  be  once  made,  and,  of  course,  sensuous 


142  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

evidences  against  it  cannot  be  conclusive.  For,  by  the 
very  definition  of  spirit,  as  substance  that  is  simple, 
monadic,  indivisible,  unextended,  devoid  of  sensible 
attributes,  we  have  no  right  to  expect  to  detect  its 
presence  or  absence  by  direct  sensation.  Hence,  when 
the  materialist  argues  that  "  science  "  (meaning  thereby 
exclusively  the  science  of  sensible  phenomena],  "  tells 
him  nothing  of  spirit;"  I  reply  :  Of  course  it  does  not. 
But  if  he  argues  thence  that  there  is  no  spirit,  he  is  as 
unreasonable  as  though  he  would  decide  whether  a 
given  crystal  vase  contains  atmosphere,  by  eye-sight 
and  touch,  and  object  that  the  vessel  contained  no  color 
and  nothing  resisting.  Of  course  it  does  not:  for  the 
definition  of  atmosphere  is  a  gas  absolutely  transparent, 
impalpable,  and  colorless  in  limited  masses.  So,  other 
faculties  than  the  senses  must  decide  whether  there  is  a 
spirit  in  man  ;  for  spirit  by  its  very  definition  is  devoid 
of  sensible  properties. 

The  chief  evidence  of  the  soul's  spirituality  will  be 
found  to  .be,  when  inspected,  intuitive.  Man  only  knows 
usually  as  he  is  conscious  of  what  he  knows.  His  con- 
sciousness implies  a  "being  which  is  conscious.  Hence, 
man's  knowledge  of  himself,  as  conscious,  thinking  sub- 
stance, is  a  priori  to,  though  implicitly  present  in,  all  his 
other  thinkings.  He  knows  his  own  thinking  self  first, 
and  only  by  knowing  it  knows  any  other  thing.  In  other 
words,  my  having  knowledge,  sensitive  or  other,  im- 
plies the  Ego  that  has  it.  I  can  only  have  perception 
of  the  objective  by  admitting  the  reality  of  the  subjec- 
tive. I  cannot  construe  to  myself  any  mental  state 
without  postulating  real  being,  a  subjectum  whose  the 
state  is.  So,  the  sensations  from  the  objective  side  we 
are  necessitated  to  refer  to  real,  objective  being,  the 
non-Ego.  The  non-Ego  is  only  known  by  having  admit- 
ted the  reality  of  the  Ego.  The  Scientific  American  once 
remarked  that,  although  perpetual  motion  could  be 
demonstrated  to  be  impossible  in  a  machine  of  human 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  143 

construction,  there  are  always  a  good  many  people 
busy  in  inventing  perpetual  motion.  That  journal  rec- 
ommended the  following  method  of  finding  the  per- 
petual motion  to  such  as  are  determined  to  pursue  the 
inquiry  ;  and  it  assured  them  that  it  would  find  it  fully 
as  effectual  as  any,  and  much  cheaper  and  simpler. 
Select  a  large  tube,  with  handles.  Place  it  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  floor,  and  let  the  operator  get  into  it,  and  lay 
hold  of  the  handles.  When  he  lifts  himself  thus  to  the 
ceiling,  he  will  have  perpetual  motion.  It  is  by  a 
parallel  method  that  the  materialists  proceed  with  their 
argument.  It  is  a  similar  species  of  logical  tub-lifting, 
burdened  with  the  weight  of  the  lifter's  person.  The 
reality  of  Spirit  can  only  be  taken  away  by  taking  away 
the  very  cognition  on  which  the  materialist  stands : 
that  consciousness,  namely,  of  the  Ego,  which  is  h  priori 
to  his  knowledge  of  matter. 

But  may  we  not  distinguish  the  Ego  from  the  non- 
Ego,  and  yet  think  them  both  matter  ?  I  reply,  No  : 
because  in  the  very  recognition  of  the  two  a  contrast 
arises 'between  them  before  the  reason,  which  is  inevit- 
able. Every  act  of  consciousness  is  seen  to  imply,  upon 
inspection,  the  singleness  of  the  mind.  It  learns  the 
qualities  of  various  objects  by  sensations  exceedingly 
various,  yet  all  are  inevitably  referred  to  the  same 
knowing  Subject.  The  Ego  who  perceives  by  touching, 
is  all  the  time  identical  with  the  Ego  who  perceives  by 
tasting,  smelling,  hearing,  and  seeing  ;  and  it  is  the 
same,  again,  with  that  Ego  who  afterwards  reflects 
upon  all  these  sensations  ;  and  still  the  same,  who  feels 
towards  the  objects.  The  knowing  Mind  remains 
identical  through  all  these  diversities.  But  all  mate- 
rial objects  exist  before  us  in  plurality.  The  simplest 
material  substance  is  constituted  by  an  aggregation  of 
parts,  and  may  be  conceived  as  divided.  The  lightest 
has  some  weight :  the  smallest  has  some  extension  ;  all 
have  some  figure.  But  consciousness  says  that  the 


144  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

thing  within  us,  which  knows,  feels,  and  wills,  is  simple. 
These  varied  modifications  which  we  are  necessitated  to 
refer  to  one  subject,  we  also  know  coexist  in  it  without 
partition  or  plurality.  The  subject  which  conceives  is  the 
same  that  feels  towards  the  object  conceived.  The 
agent  who  hates  is  the  same  that  loves  the  opposite 
object  to  the  one  hated. 

Moreover,  every  act  and  affection  of  the  mind  is 
known  in  consciousness  as  having  complete  unity,  and 
it  is  impossible  to  refer  any  attribute  of  extension  to 
them  even  in  conception.  Endeavor  to  imagine  a  con- 
cept as  round,  or  ponderous,  or  colored  (as  it  is  a  men- 
tal act) ;  or  an  affection  triangular,  as  distinguished 
from  another  that  is  circular ;  or  the  top  and  bottom 
sides  of  a  judgment ;  or  a  volition  divided  by  some  tool 
into  halves  and  quarters  ;  and  you  feel,  inevitably,  that 
the  thought  is  impossible.  All  the  attributes  of  matter 
are  absolutely  irrelevant  to  spirit  and  to  all  its  modifi- 
cations. But,  while  all  our  mental  affections  have  abso- 
lute unity,  we  are  taught  by  our  senses  that  all  qualities 
and  affections  of  material  masses  are  affections  of  their 
parts  aggregated.  The  whiteness  of  a  wall  is  the  white- 
ness of  a  multitude  of  separate  points  in  the  wall.  The 
magnetism  of  a  metallic  bar  is  the  magnetism  of  a  mul- 
titude of  molecules  of  metal.  The  properties  may  be 
literally  divided  along  with  the  masses.  The  material- 
istic conception  receives  a  most  exact  refutation,  when 
we  recall  the  multitude  of  distinct  ideas  and  feelings 
stored  up  in  unconscious  memory,  and  the  vast  differ- 
ence in  number,  in  dull  or  youthful,  and  in  great  or 
learned  minds.  Materialists  would  claim  memory  as 
especially  a  nerve-faculty,  because  a  blow  on  the  brain 
so  distinctly  suspends  all  its  operations,  as  do  certain 
diseases  of  that  organ.  They  also  cite  the  case  of  sen- 
sitive ideas  lying  long  in  the  brain,  wholly  unknown  to 
consciousness,  until  some  peculiar  excitement  of  the 
brain  stimulates  the  indistinct  marks  into  recollections. 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind. 

Must  not  these  ideas  have  been  somehow  imprinted  on 
the  nerve-matter  ?  I  reply,  No  ;  but  in  the  spirit.  The 
convolutions  of  the  cortical  matter  of  the  brain  cannot 
be  resorted  t'o  to  receive  all  these  marks.  For,  first, 
birds  have  the  faculty  of  memory;  but  it  is  stated  by 
anatomists  that  their  brains  have  no  convolutions. 
Second,  the  faculty  of  memory  involves  very  intimately 
that  of  association.  But  the  latter  discloses  ties  of  sug- 
gestion, by  resemblance,  contrast,  cause,  between  ideas 
once  before  in  the  mind,  and  other  ideas  never  before 
in  the  mind.  It  is  the  faculty  of  comparison  which 
perceives  resemblances,  and  this,  as  we  have  seen,  im- 
plies an  intelligent  middle  term  between  the  ideas  com- 
pared. This  materialist  theory  can  never  account  for 
the  rise  by  suggestion  of  ideas  not  simultaneously 
marked  in  the  brain  by  sensation.  We  know  that  the 
retentiveness  of  memory  is  chiefly  dependent  upon  the 
attention  given  to  the  ideas  when  seen  at  first.  But 
attention  has  as  its  essential  element  volition,  which  is  a 
subjective  faculty.  And,  last,  the  startling  rise  of  ideas, 
supposed  to  be  long  forgotten,  out  of  conscious  memory, 
in  some  peculiar  cases  of  excitement,  make  it  at  least 
probable  that  no  impression  is  ever  lost.  If  so,  the 
accumulation  has  no  end  in  this  life  ;  and  the  material- 
ist view  becomes  impossible.  If  the  brain,  or  a  part  of 
it,  is  the  something  which  remembers,  how  are  all  these 
marks  distinguishably  made  on  a  surface  of  no  more 
breadth  ?  Why  does  not  the  tablet  get  full  ?  How  is 
it  that  a  mind,  like  that  of  Leibnitz,  for  instance,  can 
still  learn  more  than  ever,  by  reason  of  all  that  he  has 
learned  ?  We  must  bear  in  mind  that,  if  materialism  is 
true,  the  viewing  of  any  of  these  marks,  in  the  act. of 
reminiscence,  is  some  sort  of  sense-perception,  because, 
on  that  doctrine,  there  is  nothing  else  but  sense  organs, 
either  without  or  within  the  skull.  How  many  lines  on 
an  inch  of  surface  can  sense  perceive  ?  That  is  settled 
for  our  eye-sight,  the  keenest  sense  known  to  us,  with 
10 


146  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

geometrical  exactness  !  '  The  supposition  of  marks  im- 
printed on  a  material  mass  or  surface  is  untenable. 

Professor  Bain,  in  his  "  Mind  and  Body,"  attempts  by 
many  expedients,  but  vainly,  to  escape  this  objection. 
He  assigns  the  material  marks  or  prints  of  our  ideas  in 
memory,  not  only  to  the  cortical  grey  matter  of  the 
brain's  surface,  but  to  the  numerous  particles  of  grey 
matter,  which,  throughout  the  whole  nervous  masses,  he 
supposes  to  be  the  connecting-links  of  filaments  of 
nerve  at  their  plexuses.  He  labors  to  exaggerate  the 
number  of  these  filaments,  claiming  for  each  of  them 
the  functions  of  an  independent  nerve  ;  and  he  endeav- 
ors to  diminish  the  number  of  the  ideas  in  the  largest 
memory.  The  fatal  chasms  in  his  hypothesis  are  such 
as  these.  It  is  mere  supposition  that  molecules  of  the 
grey  matter  at  the  ends  of  separate  filaments  receive 
and  retain  these  permanent  marks  of  previous  nerve- 
currents  ;  no  demonstrative  proof  is  shown.  Many  fila- 
ments are  agitated  to  convey  a  single  sensation  ;  per- 
haps, in  some  single  cases,  like  a  sensation  of  warmth, 
hundreds  of  thousands.  The  difference  of  material 
capacities  between  the  brain  of  a  Cuvier  and  a  clown 
can  never  be  made  to  bear  a  proportion  to  the  contents 
of  their  two  memories.  Here  Professor  Bain  shall  sup- 
port the  truth  and  contradict  himself:  On  page  gist  he 
asserts  (without  proof)  that  "  for  every  act  of  memory, 
....  there  is  a  specific  grouping  or  coordination  of  sen- 
sations and  movements,  by  virtue  of  specific  growths  in 
the  cell-junctions."  If  so,  there  must  be  a  direct  pro- 
portion between  the  number  of  these  material  junction- 
cells  and  the  number  of  ideas.  But,  on  page  2ist,  he 
confesses  that  while  the  brain  of  the  common  male 
weighs  forty-eight  ounces,  that  of  Cuvier  weighed  sixty- 
four  ounces,  and  admits  :  "  There  would  be  no  exag- 
geration in  saying  that  while  size  of  brain  increases  in 
arithmetical  proportion,  intellectual  range  increases  in 
geometrical  proportion."  Then  his  self-contradiction  is 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  147 

clear,  if  forty-eight  ounces  of  brain  are  requisite  to  give 
space  for  the  material  markings  of  a  peasant's  ideas, 
sixty-four  ounces  cannot  give  space  for  a  Cuviers. 

Now  the  law  of  our  reason  compels  us  to  refer  this 
complete  contrast  of  attributes  to  a  real  difference  of 
substance.  While  we  name  the  Ego,  Spirit,  we  must 
call  the  objective  something  else  ;  Matter.  The  latter 
has  extension,  parts,  weight,  resistance,  figure,  and 
usually  color,  with  ,ocher  secondary  properties.  The 
former  has  none  of  these,  but  singleness,  indivisibility, 
identity.  The  power  in  matter  is  force.  The  powers 
in  spirit  are  heterogeneous,  powers  of  knowing,  feeling, 
choosing.  The  man  who  thinks  consistently,  must  al- 
ways be  more  certain  that  there  is  mind,  than  that  there 
is  matter;  because  the  recognition  of  spirit  is  in  order 
to  the  knowledge  of  matter.  Does  sense-perception 
seem  to  the  materialist  to  give  him  the  most  palpable 
knowledge  of  the  matter  external  to  him?  This  is  only 
a  sensuous  perversion  of  his  habits  of  thought.  For 
he  has  only  been  enabled  to  construe  that  perception  at 
all,  so  as  to  make  it  a  datum  of  valid  knowledge,  by  first 
crediting  the  intuition  of  consciousness.  But  that  has 
also  revealed  to  him  the  perceiving  agent  as  contrasted 
with  the  object  revealed.  How  unscientific  is  it,  to  use 
the  intuition  in  her  second,  and  refuse  credit  to  her  first 
testimony?  We  should  rather  say:  Falsus  in  uno, 
falsus  in  omnibus.  Hence,  while  pure  idealism  and 
materialism  are  both  errors,  idealism  is  the  less  error 
of  the  two.  It  outrages  our  intuitions  on  one  side, 
materialism  outrages  them  on  both.  This  partial  com- 
munity of  error  we  have  seen  curiously  illustrated  by 
the  constant  tendency  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy 
from  Condillac  to  Herbert  Spencer,  to  veer  from  mate- 
rialism to  idealism. 

In  the  next  place,  materialism  contradicts  our  imme- 
diate consciousness  of  free-agency.  Let  us  first  inspect 
that  consciousness.  He  who  imagines  that  it  is  nothing 


148  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

more  than  opportunity  for  the  muscles  to  effect,  with- 
out obstruction,  the  impulses  from  within  emitted  by 
the  something  that  thinks,  has  wholly  mistaken  the 
case.  There  is,  besides,  a  conscious  free-agency  as  to 
emitting  the  impulse  from  within.  The  very  essence  of 
the  case  is,  that  the  something  which  thinks  forms  self- 
determinations.  To  be  sure  of  this,  one  needs  only  to 
listen  candidly  to  the  testimony  of  consciousness.  Now 
this  unique  function  gives  us  again  a  conviction  of  the 
unity  and  simplicity  of  the  mind  ;  for  we  see  intuitively 
that  the  being  which  emits  this  self-determination  is  a 
unit  of  power,  acting  in  every  volition  indi  visibly.  Let  any 
man  watch  the  volitions  which  pass  through  conscious- 
ness ;  they  are  flashes  of  spiritual  power  all  emitted 
from  a  focal  point.  Experience  has  now  shown  us  two 
different  (and  often  rival)  classes  of  effects  ;  those  of 
material  forces  being  one  class,  those  of  free  choice  the 
other.  Force  is  blind,  unintelligent,  and  necessitated. 
Choice  is  intelligent  and  free.  Whenever  we  exercise 
moral  and  rational  self-command  against  the  attraction 
of  some  vivid  impression  on  the  senses,  we  have  a  clear 
evidence  of  the  subjective  and  spiritual  seat  of  the  will. 
That  vivid  sense-impression  is,  according  to  the  mate- 
rialists, a  material  affection.  There  are  many  cases  in 
which  this  is  not  only  the  last,  but  the  most  potent 
antecedent  in  the  brain.  Why,  then,  does  not  volition 
follow  as  a  physical  consequent  ?  Yet  we  know  that 
we  often  present  a  successful  rational  resistance.  The 
same  species  of  proof  is  presented  by  the  somnambulic 
state,  and  by  some  others.  In  these  states,  the  nerve 
organs,  including  both  those  of  sensation  and  motion, 
act  automatically.  The  somnambulist  walks,  and,  per- 
haps, climbs,  with  perfect  accuracy.  But  as  soon  as  the 
mind  awakes,  or  returns  to  its  normal  control  over  the 
nerves,  t.Qtally  different  volitions  assume  direction  of 
the  whole  man.  Now,  it  is  the  somnambulic  state 
which  shows  what  the  nerve-organs  can  do  of  them- 


Spirititality  of  the  Mind.  149 

selves.  What  is  this  new  power  which  comes  to  the 
helm,  the  instant  the  mind  resumes  the  sway  of  the 
body  ?  It  is  something  more  than  nerve-matter,  spirit. 
Whenever  matter  is  an  objective  point  of  free  choice, 
we  are  conscious  that  free-agency  and  material  force 
become  opponents  ;  the  intelligent  purpose  of  the  voli- 
tion is  to  overcome  some  material  force ;  and  the  nec- 
essary nature  of  the  material  object  is  to  present  a 
passive  resistance,  up  to  its  natural  limit,  to  the  free- 
agency.  The  reason  refuses  to  think  any  effect  with- 
out an  adequate  cause;  and  it  is  impossible  to  refer 
these  contrasted  effects  of  force  and  free-agency  to  a 
common  cause.  Hence,  the  something  which  wills 
cannot  be  the  something  which  force  inhabits ;  mat- 
ter. This  view  as  much  excludes  nerve-matter  from 
the  claim  to  be  the  substance  which  wills,  as  it  does 
bony  matter;  for  the  actions  of  nerve-matter,  so  far 
as  known  by  the  senses,  are  only  material ;  that  is, 
unintelligent  and  necessitated.  From  this  point  of 
view  we  see  that  the  correlation,  or  as  Spencer  more 
perspicuously  calls  it,  the  transformation  and  equiva- 
lency of  material  force  and  mental  will,  is  impossible. 
That  false  dogma  is  unquestionably  the  corner-stone  of 
the  evolution  philosophy,  as  Spencer  clearly  enough 
saw.  For,  if  there  are  two  species  of  power  in  the 
universe,  spiritual  and  material,  that  unification  of 
sciences  which  he  demands  is  out  of  the  question. 
Again,  if  force  and  volition  cannot  be  proven  equiva- 
lent and  transmutable  powers,  then,  however  Darwin 
might  succeed  in  evolving  higher  animal  forms  from  the 
lower,  the  evolution  of  man  from  animal  progenitors, 
and  the  exclusion  of  a  spiritual  God  from  his  creation, 
is  all  undone,  because  the  mind  is  the  man,  and  the 
evolution  theory  would  leave  the  more  essential  part 
of  human  nature  unaccounted  for.  This,  then,  is  the 
key  of  the  battle-ground  !  Hence,  the  importance  of 
defending  it  triumphantly. 


150  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

I  resume  that  defence,  then,  by  claiming  that  any 
man's  consciousness,  faithfully  inspected,  reveals  the 
essential  difference  between  material  force  and  voli- 
tion, which  I  have  claimed  above.  Effects  so  hete- 
rogeneous cannot  be  correctly  referred  to  the  same 
cause.  But  I  argue,  farther,  that  volition  originates 
material  force.  This  fact  is,  indeed,  the  pretext  of  the 
evolutionist,  for  his  assertion  of  the  identity  of  the  two  ; 
but  he  misunderstands  it.  We  perpetually  see  mate- 
rial force  originating  in  volitions  of  spirits,  but  we 
never  see  volitions  originating  in  material  forces.  Nay, 
but,  replies  the  Evolutionist,  is  not  sensation  the  result 
of  some  species  of  impact  of  matter  upon  the  nerve- 
organs  ?  And  do  not  sensations  cause  volitions  ?  To 
the  latter,  I  reply,  No  ;  they  only  present  occasions  for 
volitions,  which  are,  in  truth,  caused  from  within.  Let 
any  one  honestly  inspect  his  own  consciousness,  and  he 
will  see  that  the  activity  of  his  soul  in  volition  is  from 
within  outward  ;  not  from  the  object  inward  ;  he  will 
see  that,  granted  the  object  before  the  sense-percep- 
tion, it  is  the  soul,  the  something  which  thinks,  that 
elects  to  reach  towards  it,  or  not.  The  utter  mistake 
of  endeavoring  to  make  the  volition  the  mere,  material 
"  correlate  "  of  the  force  expended  by  molecular  im- 
pact upon  the  nerve-organ  of  sense,  is  thus  displayed 
by  Dr.  Stirling,  of  Edinburg.  Let  us  suppose  that  an 
insult  is  shouted  in  the  ear  of  a  choleric  Briton.  He 
flushes  with  anger,  and  his  arm  is  nerved  for  a  blow. 
The  muscular  force  in  those  muscles,  says  the  Evolu- 
tionist, is  che  transformed  and  equivalent  force  of  the 
molecular  impact  of  the  acoustic  waves  upon  his  audi- 
tory nerve.  Let  us  see  ;  a  very  simple  experiment  will 
test  this.  Let  us  suppose  that  the  sturdy  Briton  knows 
only  his  mother-tongue  ;  and  then  shout  the  insult  in 
French.  No  flush  burns  in  his  face ;  no  muscle  is 
moved  to  strike.  But  now  let  a  bystander  translate 
the  insult  into  English,  reciting  it  in  the  softest  tone, 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  1 5 1 

and  the  forcible  manifestations  of  anger  are  at  once 
made.  Why  this  ?  Evidently  because  sound  was  not 
even  the  occasion,  much  less  the  cause,  of  resentment, 
at  all ;  but  an  idea,  a  thought,  of  which  the  sound  was 
the  symbol.  The  occasion  was  in  the  idea  alone.  Upon 
apprehension  of  that,  resentment  arose ;  when  that 
failed  to  reach  the  mind,  there  was  no  effect.  So,  the 
evolutionist  reminds  us  that  the  caloric  which  warms 
the  cheek  of  modesty  with  a  blush,  is  the  same  agent 
which  expands  the  steam  in  the  machine.  Very  true  : 
but  it  is  only  a  thought  which  can  prompt  the  chaste 
soul  to  send  the  mantling  blood  into  the  warm  cheek. 
Without  the  idea,  the  same  acoustic  waves,  or  refracted 
rays  on  the  retina,  provoke  no  blush.  I  remark  further, 
that  if  volition  is  transformed  material  force,  then  one 
ought  to  be  regularly  measured  in  terms  of  the  other. 
But  this  is  not  so.  One  man,  with  but  a  languid  voli- 
tion, emits  a  muscular  force  which  moves  a  mass  that 
another  cannot  move  by  the  most  intense  energy  of  his 
will.  Worse  than  this :  we  see  one  when  partially 
alarmed  by  danger,  but  fresh  in  body,  by  a  compara- 
tively slight  effort  of  volition,  moving  his  limbs  over  the 
ground  like  a  deer  ;  but  later  in  the  race,  we  see  the 
same  man,  when  death  is  close  upon  his  heels,  and  when 
his  whole  will  is  stirred  and  nerved  to  agony,  scarcely 
able  to  drag  his  feet  a  few  inches.  Force  is  not  the 
correlate  of  will ;  but  it  is  a  heterogeneous  power. 

I  return,  then,  to  the  assertion,  that  while  material 
force  is  not  transformable  into  volition,  volition  is  an 
original  spring  of  material  force  ;  and  we  shall  discover, 
the  only  original  spring  of  it.  Passivity  is  the  essential 
attribute  of  matter.  This  is  indisputably  implied  in  the 
law  of  inertia,  and  also  in  the  law  of  motion.  Matter 
only  receives  force,  and  transmits,  and  obeys  it.  It  is 
in  itself  as  incompetent  to  originate  force,  as  it  is  to» 
resist  it.  Is,  then,  force  from  eternity  to  eternity,  as 
Spencer  would  have  it?  We  shall  sec  in  a  moment. 


152  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Whenever  we  have  an  opportunity  to  trace  any  series 
of  forces  to  its  origin,  we  find  it  always  in  the  volition 
of  a  living  thing.  Does  one  hear,  for  instance,  a  can- 
non-ball hurtling  through  the  air,  and  see  it  bury  itself 
with  violence  in  the  earth  ?  Let  him  ask  himself  whence 
the  momentum  of  this  ball  ?  From  the  explosive  force 
of  the  gunpowder  ?  Whence  that  explosive  force  ?  One 
answer  is:  from  the  human  providence  of  its  manufac- 
turers. Another  is:  from  the  impact  of  fire,  starting 
the  chemical  re-actions  of  its  ingredients.  Whence  the 
fire?  From  the  friction  of  a  match.  Whence  that  fric- 
tion ?  From  a  quick  motion  of  the  gunner's  arm. 
Whence  that  motion  of  the  arm  ?  From  a  volition  of 
the  gunner's  mind.  Then  we  reach  the  beginning  of 
this  series  of  causes;  for  this  volition,  though  occasion- 
ed by  something  out  of  that  mind,  is  self-caused,  an 
original  emission  of  the  spontaneous  soul.  Such  is  the 
original  to  which  all  series  of  forces  are  traced,  which 
are  not  natural.  Here,  then,  we  have  an  analogy  which 
begets  the  strongest  probability,  that  all  natural  forces 
had  the  same  origin  in  the  will,  namely,  of  the  super- 
natural mind,  God.  The  only  apparent  escape  from 
this  conclusion  is  in  Mr.  Spencer's  assumption  that 
force  is  from  eternity  to  eternity,  and  so  has  no  origin 
at  all.  But,  first,  this  is  inadmissible,  because  it  gives 
us  an  infinite  series  of  dependent  effects,  without  any 
independent  cause,  which  all  philosophy  rejects  as  an 
impossible  proposition.  It  is  inadmissible,  second,  be- 
cause the  effects  disclose  at  every  step  the  richest  intel- 
ligence, while  mere  force  is  blind.  It  is  inadmissible, 
third,  because  this  "  persistency  of  force,"  in  this  sense, 
must  also  imply  the  absolute  immensity  of  force  and 
matter,  as  well  as  their  absolute  eternity.  Let  it  be 
remembered  that  the  evolutionist  holds,  that  matter 
is  the  only  habitat  of  force  ;  for  it  is  an  affection  of 
matter  alone,  and  not  of  empty  space.  He  also  admits, 
with  us,  that  matter  cannot  be  absolutely  immense,  or 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  153 

literally  coextensive  with  infinite  space ;  because  figure, 
dimension,  and  limit  are  inseparable  from  all  our  con- 
ceptions of  matter.  And  last:  it  is  impossible,  as  Mr. 
Spencer  virtually  admits,  that  a  congeries  of  bodies 
finite  in  extent,  and  contained  by  nothing  but  empty 
space,  can  maintain  his  idea  of  the  persistency  of  force. 
In  every  case  of*  material  force,  action  must  equal  re- 
action. How  can  this  equal  re-action  be  given  back  to 
the  forces  on  the  edge  of  this  material  universe,  where 
there  is  nothing  to  re-act  ?  Take,  for  instance,  that 
form  of  force  known  as  caloric.  All  the  caloric  radiated 
out  from  the  masses  of  matter  on  the  edge  of  the  uni- 
verse, into  empty  space,  can  find  nothing  to  radiate  it 
back.  Here  Mr.  Spencer's  universal  first  truth,  the 
persistency  of  force,  absolutely  breaks  down.  Matter 
cannot  be  eternal,  or  immense;  God  can.  Hence,  we 
are  shut  up  to  the  conclusion  to  which  every  experi- 
mental analogy  led  us,  that  spirit  is  the  only  adequate 
ultimate  source  of  forces  ;  and  so,  the  presence  of  the 
forces  of  nature  demonstrate  the  existence  of  the  Super- 
natural Spirit,  instead  of  superseding  it. 

As  concerns  the  correlation  of  material  forces  among 
themselves,  we  feel  no  motive,  after  so  fully  exempting 
the  power  of  rational  volition  from  their  class,  to  assert 
or  deny.  But  fidelity  to  the  methods  of  sound  science 
constrains  us  to  remember  that  the  doctrine  of  the  cor- 
relation of  the  physical  forces,  even,  is  only  a  hypothesis. 
It  has  never  received  that  verification  so  necessary  to 
its  demonstration  as  an  established  scientific  truth,  by 
the  actual  ascertainment  of  the  unchanged  equality  of 
measurement  for  one  force,  and  the  other,  into  which  it 
is  supposed  to  be  transformed.  Such  a  verification,  in- 
deed, the  advocates  of  the  doctrine  admit  to  be  forever 
impracticable.  Again,  has  the  force  of  gravity  ever 
been  correlated  with  heat,  light,  and  electricity  ?  If  so, 
why  has  any  mass  the  same  gravity,  while  its  calorific 
and  electrical  conJiuons  are  most  violently  changed? 


154  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

That  this  hypothesis  is  not  yet  proved,  appears  from 
the  ease  with  which  a  counter-supposition  may  be  made, 
which  seems  to  satisfy  the  known  facts  at  least  as  well. 
Let  it  be  supposed  that  each  material  force  is  a  distinct 
and  permanent  property  of  the  kind  of  matter  which  it 
inhabits,  and  potentially  always  present  in  it.  This 
state  of  mere  potentiality  is  an  equilibrium  produced 
by  the  resistance  of  another  competing  force.  Then, 
all  that  will  be  necessary  to  produce  the  action  of  the 
former  force,  will  be  to  release  it  from  this  counterpois- 
ing force.  Its  return  to  the  state  of  rest,  or  potential 
presence,  would  be  caused  by  the  rise  of  a  resisting 
force,  again,  sufficient  to  counterpoise  it.  Every  phys- 
ical effect,  then,  is  the  result  of  an  interaction  of  two  or 
more  single  forces.  Each  force  maintains  its  distinct 
integrity,  both  while  active  and  potential.  The  advan- 
tages of  this  hypothesis  are,  that  it  might  be  supported 
by  a  multitude  of  physical  facts,  and  is  strictly  accord- 
ant with  a  philosophic  view  of  causation.  According 
to  this  view,  there  is  no  transformation  of  one  force  into 
another,  but  each  is  and  remains  the"  species  of  force  it 
was  at  the  beginning.  The  seeming  transformation  of 
one  species  into  another  is  but  the  passage  of  the  former 
from  its  active  to  its  latent  or  potential  state,  and  the 
release  of  the  latter  out  of  its  potential  into  its  active 
state. 

But,  be  this  as  it  may,  the  evidence  is  totally  lacking 
for  the  transformation  of  any  inorganic  force  into  the 
vital.  And  between  both  these  and  the  spiritual  there 
is  a  "  gulf-fixed,"  which  no  man  has  passed  or  can  pass. 

Materialism  contradicts  also  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness as  to  our  moral  judgments.  This  convinces 
us  that  matter,  if  a  cause,  is  an  involuntary  and  unin- 
telligent cause.  But  we  know  that  we  are  responsible, 
and  that  this  unavoidably  implies  a  rational  spontaneity 
in  acting.  No  man  deliberately  thinks  of  holding  a 
blind,  material  force  to  a  moral  responsibility.  But  this 


Spirititality  of  the  Mind.  155 

conviction  of  responsibility  in  conscience  we  shall  find 
universal,  radical,  unavoidable,  and  intuitive.  It  is  im- 
possible for  a  man  reasonably  to  discharge  his  mind  of 
it.  He  cannot  think  the  admitted  wrong  as  meritorious 
as  the  right,  and  the  admitted  wrong-doer  irresponsible 
for  his  wrong,  like  a  rolling  stone,  a  wave,  or  a  flame. 
These  facts  of  consciousness  compel  us  to  admit  the  ex- 
istence within  us  of  a  substance  different  from  matter. 
Had  man  no  spirit,  there  would  be  nothing  to  be  ac- 
countable. Were  there  no  Spirit  above  him,  there 
would  be  none  to  whom  to  be  accountable.  Were 
either  true,  our  nature  would  be  a  lie  and  moral  knowl- 
edge impossible. 

The  attempt  is  made  to  meet  these  arguments  by 
saying,  first,  that  consciousness  is  not  to  be  trusted. 
Consciousness,  say  they,  is  incomplete.  She  gives  no 
account  of  the  subjective  acts  and  states  of  infancy,  and 
an  incorrect  account  of  those  of  the  mentally  diseased. 
She  usually  tells  us  nothing  of  the  large  latent  stores  of 
memory.  She  is  entirely  silent  as  to  any  interaction 
of  the  nerve-system  and  the  spirit,  of  which,  if  there  is 
a  spirit,  there  must  be  so  much. 

But  to  what  does  all  this  amount?  Consciousness 
does  not  tell  us  all  things,  and  sometimes  seems  to  tell 
us  wrong.  Were  this  granted,  still  the  stubborn  prop- 
osition would  remain,  that  if  we  cannot  trust  conscious- 
ness, we  can  have  no  ideas.  The  faculty  which  they  would 
exalt  against  her  is  sensation.  Do  the  senses  tell  us  all 
things?  Are  they  never  deceived?  And  does  sense 
give  any  perception  save  as  it  is  mediated  by  conscious- 
ness ?  Enough  of  such  special  pleadings  !  That  con- 
sciousness reveals  nothing  direct  of  the  interaction  of 
the  spirit  and  the  nerve-organs,  is  precisely  because 
spirit  and  matter  are  causes  so  diverse.  So  that  this 
fact  contains  one  of  the  most  conclusive  proofs  against 
materialism.  If  our  conscious  intelligence  could  be 
simply  a  function  of  nerve-matter,  then  it  would  be 


156  Settsualistie  Philosophy. 

very  natural  to  find  every  link  of  the  nerve-action  rep- 
resented to  us  mentally.  But  because  conscious  intel- 
ligence is  not  a  material,  organic  function,  but  is  the 
free  action  of  spirit,  a  substance  and  cause  wholly 
heterogeneous  from  matter,  thsref  >re  it  is  that  there  is 
naturally  a  chasm  of  mystery  just  at  the  connecting- 
link  between  nerve-action  in  the  sensor ium  and  the  idea 
in  the  intelligence,  and  between  volition  in  the  spiritual 
agent  and  contraction  in  the  efferent  nerve.  Just  there 
is  a  relation,  which  the  omniscient  Spirit  was  able  to 
institute.  Sense  cannot  grasp  that  link,  because  the 
interaction  is  no  longer  material.  Conscious  intelli- 
gence does  not  construe  it  to  itself,  because  it  is  not 
merely  spiritual. 

Again,  it  is  asked  :  If  there  must  be  an  entity  within 
us  to  be  the  subject  of  consciousness,  why  may  not  that 
be  the  Brair  ^  One  answer  has  been  given  above  :  That, 
while  the  pioperties  and  functions  of  brain-matter  are 
material,  qualified  by  extension  and  divisibility,  those 
of  consciousness  are  spiritual,  simple,  and  indivisible. 
Another  answer  is,  that  I  know  my  own  brain,  like 
other  matter,  like  my  eye-ball,  is  also  objective  to  that 
in  me  which  thinks.  Of  the  most  internal  head-ache 
which  men  ever  have,  they  say  :  "  My  head  hurts  me," 
as  naturally  and  truthfully  as  they  say  :  "  My  foot  hurts 
me."  The  "Me"  that  is  hurt  is  different  in  each  case 
from  the  organ  which  hurts  it.  How  do  I  know  that  I 
have  a  brain  ?  By  a  valid  analogy  from  the  testimony 
of  anatomists  as  to  the  skulls  of  all  other  men.  This 
testimony  is  the  witnessing  of  a  sense-perception,  which 
the  anatomists  had,  upon  opening  those  other  skulls; 
that  is,  an  objective  knowledge.  They  tell  me  that  if 
it  were  proper  for  me  to  submit  to  the  operation  of 
trepanning  on  the  forehead,  they  could  enable  me  to 
see  my  own  brain  in  a  mirror  as  well  as  I  now  see  my 
eye-ball  in  the  same  way.  Who  would  it,  then,  be,  who 
was  looking  at  that  brain,  watching  perhaps  the  pulsa- 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  157 

tions  of  the  blood  in  it  ?  I  would  be  looking-.  Then,  is 
the  brain  I  ?  The  only  notion  which  any  man  can  con- 
strue to  himself  touching  his  own  brain  is,  that  it  is  the 
necessary  instrument  by  which  he  thinks,  not  the  Ego 
which  thinks. 

Another  answer  to  this  supposition  is  suggested  by 
Sir  B.  Brodie,  from  the  dual  structure  of  man's  nervous 
system.  Man's  nerves,  like  his  limbs,  are  all  in  pairs. 
The  cerebrum  has  its  two  hemispheres.  One  side  can 
be,  and  often  is,  diseased  alone  ;  when  the  opposite 
members  of  the  body  are  paralyzed.  Now,  if  the  brain 
is  the  mind,  how  is  it  that  the  mind,  like  the  brain,  is 
not  dual?  Why  have  we  not  normally,  a  dual  con- 
sciousness? Why  is  it  that  cases  of  derangement  are 
not  usually,  like  paralysis,  cases  of  mental  hemiplegy? 

Is  it  not  remarkable,  again,  if  the  brain  is  the  mind, 
that  the  greatly  largest  organ  in  it  has  no  sensibility  ? 
No  afferent  nerve  of  sense  runs  directly  to  it,  or  pene- 
trates it.  Although  composed  of  nerve-matter,  it  ex- 
hibits no  sensibility  to  pain,  or  other  impressions.  This 
proves,  at  least,  that  living  nerve-matter  is  not  neces- 
sarily, as  such,  endo-wed  with  sensibility.  The  natural 
inference  would  seem  to  be,  that  something  additional 
to  nerve-matter  and  vitality  is  necessary  to  furnish  con- 
scious sensation,  even.  We  are  shut  up  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  brain  itself  is  not  the  intelligent  agent, 
but  its  instrument. 

The  physiology  of  the  nervous  system  of  man  sug- 
gests a  curious  argument  from  the  remarkable  arrange- 
ment of  the  parts  within  the  skull.  Every  experiential 
fact  bearing  on  this  branch  of  zoology  tends  to  prove 
that  these  nerve-masses  within  the  skull  contain  the 
centre  of  the  system.  Somewhere  within  these  masses 
is  the  capital  of  the  microcosm,  man.  Thither  all  the 
afferent  nerves  converge :  thence  the  efferent  nerves 
diverge.  It  is  to  some  point  within  the  skull  that  all 
the  sensations  from  without  are  reported,  as  to  their 


158  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

headquarters  ;  it  is  from  some  point  there  that  the  voli- 
tions are  despatched  outward  to  the  members.  Now 
we  saw  the  arrangement  of  those  nerve-masses  among 
themselves.  There  are  three  bodies,  the  sensory  gan- 
glia at  the  base,  which  form  a  comparatively  small 
cluster:  the  cerebellum  at  the  rear,  also  a  comparatively 
small  mass  ;  and  above,  the  cerebral  hemispheres  proper, 
which  are  united  intimately  together  in  their  commis- 
sure, but  have  no  connection  with  the  other  two,  ex- 
cept by  the  species  of  neck,  which  unites  them  to  the 
sensory  ganglia  underneath.  Every  fact  of  physiology 
shows  that  this  cerebrum  subserves  some  all-important 
function  in  man.  It  is  nerve-matter  most  highly  vital- 
ized ;  it  is  lavishly  supplied  with  nutrition  by  blood, 
clearly  showing  that  it  has  a  great  deal  of  work  of  some 
kind  to  do  ;  it  is  in  quantity  greatly  larger  than  both 
the  others  together  ;  it  is  penetrated  throughout  by 
nerve-fibres,  which  sub-divide  and  diverge  to  every 
part  of  its  corrugated  surface,  and  converge  towards 
the  point  of  union  with  the  sensory  ganglia  at  its  base. 
Yet,  in  itself,  it  is  incapable  of  sensation  from  without ! 
And  to  it  runs  not  a  single  nerve  directly,  from  any 
organ  of  sense,  or  any  muscle!  What  is  it?  What 
does  it  do?  The  urgency  of  this  inquiry  and  of  these 
facts,  has  caused  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter,  with  other  emi- 
nent physiologists,  to  say  :  the  cerebrum  is  evidently 
the  "  organ  ot  man's  internal  sense"  as  the  sensory  gan- 
glia, with  their  extended  ramifications  to  the  various 
limbs  and  organs,  are  the  "  organ  of  external  sense." 
We  see,  then,  that  man's  nervous  system  has  a  dual 
division  in  two  directions,  lateral  and  longitudinal. 
Laterally,  it  is  divided  into  pairs,  which  run  alongside 
of  each  other,  until  they  branch  off  to  the  several  limbs 
and  members.  Longitudinally,  it  is  divided  at  the  base 
of  the  cerebrum  into  two  ends.  The  lower  end  diverges 
from  the  point  of  division,  sending  its  branching  nerves 
downwards  and  outwards  to  the  bodily  organs,  the 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  159 

members  and  the  whole  surface,  and  thus  connecting 
man  with  the  outer  world.  The  upper  end,  the  cere- 
brum, also  sends  its  fibres  branching  and  diverging  up- 
wards from  the  point  of  juncture  towards  the  super- 
ficies of  that  organ.  But  now  note  the  peculiar  fact, 
that  this  latter  superficies  is  locked  up  in  a  rigid,  bony 
case,  is  thus  completely  shut  out  from  all  external 
causations,  and,  in  fact,  has  no  surface  organs  whatever, 
for  receiving  them  !  Nature  has  here  taught  us,  indis- 
putably, one  thing :  that  whatever  are  the  agencies  of 
the  cerebrum,  they  are  prompted  from  within,  and  not 
from  without.  There  seem  to  be  but  two  possible 
hypotheses  as  to  what  this  agency  is.  One  is  the  ra- 
tional conclusion  that  man  has  a  distinct  spirit,  which 
is  the  Ego,  the  true  self,  the  subjective,  intelligent  seat 
of  spontaneity  and  mind-power;  and  that  this  peculiar, 
this  grand  nerve-organ,  this  cerebrum,  thus  insulated 
from  all  external  functions,  is  the  connecting  instru- 
ment between  this  spirit  and  the  nervous  system.  Its 
corrugated,  vascular  surface  is  at  the  opposite  pole  of 
the  double  nervous  apparatus.  The  one  pole  is  the 
extremities  of  the  nerves,  in  the  skin,  the  retina,  the 
tympanum,  the  nostrils,  the  palate  ;  and  this  pole  is  acted 
on  by  the  external  world  ;  "  the  objective."  The  other 
pole  is  locked  up  from  the  external  world  in  its  case  of 
bone,  and  is  acted  on  by  the  spirit,  "  the  subjective.'' 
In  the  meeting  of  the  two  members  of  the  total  nervous 
system,  is  consciousness,  and  effective  volition,  while 
man's  spirit  is  incorporate  in  a  body.  The  other  sup- 
position, compatible  with  materialism,  would  be  that  the 
cerebrum  was  only  a  species  of  reserve  battery,  or  re- 
ceiver, for  either  generating  or  storing  up  molecular 
nerve-power,  from  which  the  sensory  ganglia  might 
draw  a  species  of  reinforcement  of  nervous  energy  for 
their  efferent  work.  But  this  would  reduce  all  man's 
actions  to  the  class  of  automatic,  reflex  nerve-motions, 
merely  such  as  are  excited  by  pricking  in  the  motor- 


160  Sensualistic  Philosophy, 

nerves  [and  in  many  animals  may  be  excited  after 
death].  This  last  conclusion  is  contradicted  by  the 
very  anatomy  of  the  human  system,  by  observed  facts, 
and  by  the  testimony  of  physiologists,  who  demonstrate 
that  the  cerebral  functions  cannot  belong  to  the  "  reflex  " 
class.  We  thus  seem  shut  up  to  the  former  conclusion, 
that  the  immaterial  spirit  presides  over  the  cerebrum, 
using  it  as  its  instrument ;  as  the  external  world, 
through  the  afferent  nerves,  dominate  over  the  sensory 
ganglia.  Some  eminent  minds  have,  indeed,  regarded 
it  as  inconsistent  to  travel  to  a  spiritual  conclusion  by 
a  physical  argument.  To  me  this  does  not  appear  a 
necessary  solecism.  The  student  will  weigh  the  reason- 
ing, and  will  remember  that  it  is  not  our  essential  argu- 
ment; our  demonstration  stands  firm  without  it.  Its 
interest  is  in  its  confirmation  of  the  other  arguments, 
by  its  surprising  concurrence  of  structural  arrange- 
ments. 

We  have  argued  from  the  unity  of  consciousness  and 
all  our  mental  functions.  Materialists  object  that  mate- 
rial affections  which  are  not  a  unity,  have  this  seeming 
unity  to  our  conception ;  as  a  musical  tone  is  to  the 
mind  apparently  a  unity,  and  yet  we  know  that  it  is  a 
very  numerous  series  of  successive  vibrations.  I  reply: 
True  ;  the  oneness  is  only  in  the  perception  of  it ;  only 
as  it  becomes  our  mental  affection  does  it  assume  unity. 
As  we  trace  the  effect  from  the  successive  vibrations  of 
the  musical  chord  to  those  of  the  air,  the  tympanum  of 
the  ear,  the  bony  series  of  the  inner  ear,  the  aqueous 
humor,  the  fimbriated  nerve,  the  series  is  still  one  of 
parts.  It  is  only  when  we  pass  from  the  material  organ 
to  the  mind  that  the  phenomenon  is  no  longer  a  series  of 
pulses,  but  a  unified  sense-perception.  This  very  case 
proves  most  strongly  the  unifying  power  which  be- 
longs to  the  mind  alone.  So,  when  an  extended  object 
produces  a  sensation,  though  the  object  perceived  is 
divisible,  the  perception  thereof,  as  a  mental  act,  is  in- 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind  161 

divisible.     It  is  the  mind,  and  that  alone,  which  is  the 
unifier,  because  it  is  the  mind  which  is  the  true  unit. 

Bishop  Butler  grounded  his  immortal  argument  for 
the  spirituality  of  that  which  thinks  in  us,  partly  upon 
the  fact  that  the  mind  not  only  performed  acts  of  sense- 
perception  through  its  material  organs,  but  performed 
also  abstract  acts  of  intelligence,  such  as  the  conception 
of  general  ideas,  and  of  spirit,  and  God,  independently 
of  all  organs  of  sense.  Materialists  now  object  that  he 
was  mistaken  in  his  facts  ;  they  think  they  have  proved 
by  physiological  experiments  and  reasonings  (see  page 
132)  that  no  mental  act  takes  place,  not  even  the  most 
abstract,  independent  of  molecular  brain-action.  And 
this  asserted  fact  is  advanced  with  a  triumphant  air,  as 
though  it  destroyed  our  argument.  Turrettin,  who 
used  the  same  argument  with  that  just  cited  from  But- 
ler's Analogy,  two  hundred  years  ago,  has  acutely 
anticipated  and  exploded  this  objection.  Suppose  it 
be  granted  that  a  molecular  brain-action  does  accom- 
pany the  mind's  action  in  thinking  an  abstract  thought, 
as  that  of  God,  spirit,  self;  can  a  nerve  organ  give  the 
mind  that  purely  spiritual  idea  ?  No  cause  can  give  what 
it  has  not.  How  is  it  possible  for  an  organ  essentially 
material  to  give  a  result  from  which  the  material  is  ab- 
solutely abstracted  ?  A  liver  can  secrete  bile  from 
blood  ;  but  the  bile  is  as  truly  a  material  liquid  as  the 
blood.  Hence  we  confirm  the  testimony  of  our  own 
consciousness,  that  in  abstract  thought,  as  in  spontane- 
ous volition,  the  causative  action  is  from  the  rnind  to- 
wards the  nerve  organ.  The  excitement  of  the  nerve- 
matter  is  consequence,  and  the  spirit's  spontaneity  is 
cause.  In  objective  perception,  the  cognition  of  the. 
new  sense-idea  in  the  consciousness  follows  the  excite- 
ment of  the  nerve-matter,  in  the  order  of  causation. 
And  just  so  surely,  in  the  case  of  spontaneous  thought, 
feeling,  and  volition,  mental  action  precedes  the  action 
of  the  nerve-matter  (if  there  is  any)  in  the  order  of 
ii 


1 62  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

causation.  So  that  in  the  sense  of  Turrettin  and  Bp. 
Butler,  these  acts  of  soul  are  independent  of  material 
actions  still ;  and  the  inference  holds  as  to  the  soul's 
distinct  existence.  Again :  let  us  suppose  all  that  the 
physiological  materialist  claims  to  be  true,  still  the  use 
he  makes  of  his  facts  in  favor  of  materialism  only 
brings  us  to  the  hypothesis  of  Hartley,  with  its  vibra- 
tions and  vibrati uncles,  which  has  been  doomed  to 
oblivion,  as. a  preposterous  solution  of  the  facts  of  con- 
sciousness by  three  generations  of  sound  philosophers. 
Error  gives  us  "  nothing  njw  under  the  sun." 

But  does  not  mental  disease  imply  that  the  soul  is 
material,  or,  at  least,  dependent  on  the  body  ?  In  dotage 
is  not  the  mind,  like  the  body,  tottering  to  its  extinction  ? 
If  the  mind  is  a  spirit,  and  spirit  is  a  unit,  could  organic 
disease  possibly  take  place  in  it  ?  I  reply,  that  strictly, 
mind  never  is  organically  diseased  ;  but  its  infirmities 
are  analogous  to  those  which  pathologists  call,  in  the 
body,  "  functional  derangements."  It  is  the  bodily 
organ  of  the  soul's  action  which  is  weakened  or  de- 
ranged. This  is  the  conclusion  to  which  the  best 
medical  science  has  come,  supported  by  the  experience 
of  the  treatment  of  lunatics.  If  all  our  processes  of 
thought  and  volition  are  performed,  during  our  connec- 
tion with  the  body,  through  the  instrumentality  of 
brain-organs,  then  the  physical  disturbance  of  the  latter 
accounts  for  all  appearances  of  insanity,  emotional  or 
mental,  just  as  readily  as  a  lesion  of  .a  nerve  accounts 
for  the  inability  of  the  man  whose  mind  is  perfectly 
strong  and  conscious  to  make  his  limb  obey  his  volition. 
It  is  interesting  to  remember,  also,  that  the  mind  is 
greatly  influenced  by  habits.  A  very  large  part  of  our 
mental  states  are  either  sense-perceptions  or  have  these 
for  their  immediate  objects.  If  now  the  habitual  balance 
of  the  soul's  workings  be  unsettled,  through  the  distor- 
tion or  suppression  of  this  important  branch  of  its 
ordinary  actions,  nothing  is  more  to  be  expected  than 


Spirituality  of  the  Mind.  163 

that  its  whole  action  shall  be  deranged.  When  the  grist 
is  suddenly  cut  off  from  the  milt,  it  changes  its  running, 
although  there  is  no  change  of  motive  power  or  machine- 
ry. If  a  man  has  been  long  bearing  a  heavy  burden 
on  the  shoulder,  the  throwing  of  it  off  causes  him  for  a 
time  to  hold  his  shoulders  unevenly.  That  which  hap- 
pens in  dreams  shows  that  this  explanation  is  reason- 
able. The  mind's  action  is  then  abnormal.  Every  man 
in  his  dreams  is  temporarily  and  practically  lunatic. 
His  judgment  is  in  partial  abeyance,  and  the  combina- 
tions formed  in  the  imagination,  and  believed  by  him, 
are  preposterous.  It  is  because  the  suspension  of  sense- 
perceptions  has  thrown  the  mind's  working  out  of 
balance.  Let  the  organs  of  sense  awake  fully,  and  the 
current  of  sensations  begins  to  flow  aright,  and  the  mind 
is  at  once  itself  again.  In  lunacy,  and  especially  in 
dotage,  ideas  gained  by  the  mind  before  the  bodily  dis- 
ease or  decline  took  place  are  usually  recalled  and  used 
by  the  mind  correctly,  while  more  recent  ones  are  either 
distorted  or  wholly  evanescent.  The  memory  of  the 
feeble  old  man  for  early  events  is  tenacious  and  vivid, 
while  for  recent  ones  it  is  treacherous.  But  upon  either 
object  the  judgment  is  as  sound  and  just  as  when  the 
man  was  in  his  prime. 

It  has  ever  been  a  favorite  objection  of  materialists, 
that  by  a  parallel  argument  brutes  may  be  shown  to 
have  distinct  spirits.  I  reply,  in  the  spirit  of  Bishop 
Butler,  that  this  is  an  objection  ad  ignorantiam.  If  it 
should  result  that  brutes  have  souls,  perhaps  many- 
prejudices  would  suffer  by  the  discovery,  but  I  see  not 
that  any  principle  of  established  truth  would  perish.  It 
is  no  just  logic  to  urge  that  our  premises  may  contain 
some  unknown  conclusions,  when  the  question  is  :  do 
they  or  do  they  not  contain  this  known  and  unavoid- 
able conclusion,  the  spirituality  of  man  ?  The  nature 
of  the  mental  processes  of  the  higher  brutes,  especially, 
is  very  mysterious.  It  seems  most  probable  that  their 


164  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

spirits  are  lacking  in  moral  judgments  and  sentiments, 
in  the  aesthetic  faculty,  and  in  the  ability  to  construe  the 
contents  of  their  consciousness  to  themselves  in  any 
rational  order.  But  these  are  most  essential  to  a  rational 
personality.  What  is  the  destiny  of  that  principle  which, 
in  the  brute,  is  the  seat  of  sensation,  appetite,  instinct, 
passion,  associations,  philosophy  cannot  tell  us.  Only 
when  we  resort  to  revelation,  do  we  learn  that  the 
"spirit  of  the  brute  goeth  downward,  while  the  spirit 
of  man  goeth  upward."  Ignorance  here  is  no  argu- 
ment against  the  results  of  positive  knowledge  else- 
where. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

EVOLUTION    THEORY    MATERIALISTIC,   AND   THEREFORE 

FALSE. 

TN  Chapter  VI.  I  pointed  out,  that  the  last  hope 
-•-  of  atheism,  driven  from  the  postulate  of  an  eternal 
series  of  like  things  begetting  their  like,  was  in 
some  theory  of  evolution,  by  differentiations  between 
parents  and  progeny.  This  fact  enabled  us  at  once  to 
assign  the  proper  locus  of  Evolutionism  in  philosophy 
as  a  scheme  concocted  in  the  interests  of  atheism. 
Thirty  years  ago,  the  anonymous  book,  "  Vestiges  of 
Creation,"  propounded  a  theory  of  evolution.  It  was 
criticised  and  rejected  as 'generally  by  the  Sensualistic 
school  as  by  sound  philosophers.  A  generation  later, 
the  same  scheme  is  revived,  and  a  large  part  of  the 
reading  world  is  gone  mad  after  it !  The  "  Vestiges  of 
Creation"  professed  to  recognize  a  Creator  and  the  evi- 
dence of  His  final  causes  as  fully  as  the  theologian,  and 
taught  that  the  powers  of  evolution  in  organized  beings 
were  originally  infused  by  God,  and  intelligently  di- 
rected by  Him  to  evolve  the,  creatures  designed.  The 
characteristic  of  the  last  scheme,  which  succeeds  so 
largely  where  the  other  failed,  is,  that  it  discards  the 
teleological  conclusion  wholly.  Is  this  the  cause  of  its 
popularity,  that  it  seems  to  show  men  a  way  to  get  quit 
of  the  most  perspicuous  argument  for  the  being  of  a 
God  ?  The  coincidence  is  at  least  striking.  Although 
Dr.  Darwin  frequently  uses  the  words  "  design,"  "  beau- 
tiful contrivance,-'  and  speaks  of  organs  which  are  "  in 
order"  to  ends,  ho  assures  us  that  these  are,  with  him, 

(165) 


[66  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

purely  metaphors,  and  that  his  law  of  "  natural  selec- 
tion "  is  perfectly  unintentional.  It  is  a  law  of  blind 
matter.  Its  results,  however  complicated  and  beauti- 
ful, are  the  effects  solely  of  blind  chance,  acting  through 
almost  infinite  numbers  of  trials,  and  succeeding  at 
times  solely  by  accident.  This  view  does  not  lead  Dr. 
Darwin  to  avowed  atheism,  but  this  is  only  his  incon- 
sistency. His  followers  and  admirers,  such  as  Tyndai, 
Huxley,  Biichner,  Carl  Voght,  declare,  with  one  voice, 
that  he  has  made  a  final  end  of  the  teleological  argument 
for  the  existence  of  a  personal  God.  They  declare  that 
they  need  nothing  but  matter,  force,  a  vast  duration, 
and  fortuity,  to  construct  the  whole  universe  of  worlds, 
plants  and  trees,  animals  and  intelligent  men.  That 
they  understand  the  real  effect  of  their  friend's  system 
aright,  is  confirmed  by  his  ablest  opponents,  such  as 
Louis  Agassiz.  These  all  declare  that  the  fundamental 
error  of  the  scheme  is  its  omission  of  the  evidence  for  a 
designing  Mind  over  the  universe. 

Atheism  and  Materialism  are  twin  sisters.  This  evo- 
lution doctrine  also  leads,  like  all  other  atheistic 
schemes,  to  the  denial  of  a  soul  to  man.  Whatever  is 
in  man,  Evolutionists  hold,  was  developed  out  of  the 
lowest  rudiment  of  animal  life.  Of  course  they  do  not 
think  that  development  originates  distinct  substances : 
it  merely  modifies,  increases,  or  diminishes  what  was 
there  before.  Then,  if  man  came  from  a  mollusk,  unless 
the  mollusk  had  a  distinct  rational  spirit,  man  has  none : 
he  only  has  the  mollusk's  organism  and  habits  improved. 
What  room  is  there  for  a  religion  where  there  is  neither 
soul  nor  God?  A  more  practical  view  of  this  horrible 
system  will  doubtless  be  taken  by  its  vulgar  herd 
of  votaries.  It  teaches  them  that  they  are  generically 
brutes.  They  will  act  as  brutes  ;  in  this  way  they  will 
understand  their  teachers.  The  demonstration  of  man's 
spirituality,  given  in  the  last  chapter,  is  complete  by 
itself;  and,  as  such,  it  utterly  overthrows  the  evolution 


False  Evolution   Theory.  167 

scheme,  at  least  as  to  man.  But  it  is  best  to  add  some 
farther  examination  of  it,  to  sustain  previous  conclu- 
sions. 

As  we  have  seen,  Dr.  Darwin  proposes  to  trace  the 
human  race  back,  through  an  ape,  to  the  rudimental 
form  of  insect  animal  existence.  He  supposes  that  we 
shall  have  to  look  to  a  Creator  to  give  us  this  animated 
germ  to  start  with.  Dr.  Huxley  adds  another  step,  as 
we  have  seen,  by  finding  in  the  chemical  forces  form- 
ing "  protoplasm "  a  source  for  both  vegetable  and 
animal  life  in  inorganic  nature.  The  Aristotle  of  Evo- 
lutionism, Herbert  Spencer,  evolves  everything  from 
primary  dead  matter  by  force  acting  inevitably  and 
eternally,  developing  organisms,  and  then  changing 
them  by  the  reactions  of  organs  and  environments. 
Professor  Tyndal  comes  to  their  aid  with  his  shallow 
attempt  to  rehabilitate  the  exploded  and  despised 
scheme  of  the  ancient  Atomic  philosophers.  It  is  with 
this  doctrine,  as  a  whole,  that  we  have  to  deal. 

i.  To  begin  at  the  bottom  of  the  abyss,  the  atomic 
theory  never  was  worthy  of  deliberate  refutation,  being 
only  a  hypothesis  forever  incapable  of  verification  by 
any  sufficient  experiment  or  observation,  either  in  con- 
sciousness or  in  the  sphere  of  the  senses.  As  such,  it 
never  had  a  right  to  be  entertained,  even  for  discussion, 
in  the  forum  of  inductive  science.  I  will,  however,  point 
out  a  few  of  the  assumptions  it  involves,  which  are  fatal 
to  its  credit.  It  has  never  been  demonstrated  that  there 
are  ultimate  atoms,  possessed  of  the  necessary  attributes 
demanded  by  this  scheme  ;  it  is  only  a  surmise  from 
certain  chemical  facts.  Is  not  H.  Spencer  authority 
on  this  point  with  his  own  people  ?  He  declares  that 
the  argument  for  the  infinite  divisibility  of  matter  is 
one  impossible  to  be  refuted  by  the  human  reason  ! 
Where,  then,  is  the  certainty  that  we  have  permanent 
ultimate  atoms  of  the  kind  Professor  Tyndal  needs  ? 
Again,  the  latter  rejects  the  conclusions  of  sound  phi- 


1 68  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

losophy  as  to  rational  spirits  and  the  First  Cause,  be- 
cause we  cannot  picture  them  in  the  "  scientific  imagin- 
ation." Can  he  picture  his  ultimate  atom  ?  This  atomic 
scheme  must  postulate  that  motion  is  eternal  and  in- 
trinsic in  the  atoms ;  but  sound  science  tells  us  that 
inertia  is  the  fundamental  and  original  attribute  of  mat- 
ter :  that  it  moves  not,  save  as  it  is  impelled.  This  all- 
important  fact  points  plainly  to  the  conclusion,  that 
force  is  originally  external  to  matter,  and  has  been  com- 
municated to  it  from  a  source  external  to  it;  and  sound 
induction  from  all  our  experience  of  originated  motion 
leads  to  the  conclusion,  that  the  only  adequate  ultimate 
source  of  force  is  in  the  volition  of  Spirits.  That  a  for- 
tuitous conjunction  of  atoms  should  account  for  all  the 
marvels  of  design  in  the  universe,  and  that  a  material 
mass  should  be  endowed  with  consciousness,  reason, 
and  conscience,  are  difficulties  common  to  this  and  all 
the  other  phases  of  this  philosophy. 

2.  We  advance  now  to  the  position  of  Dr.  Huxley, 
who  endeavjors  to  account  for  vegetable  and  animal  life 
by  the  action  of  the  more  complex  chemical  affinities 
producing  "  protoplasm."  For  the  physical  facts  which 
explode  this  theory,  we  are,  of  course,  dependent  on 
natural  historians  and  physiologists.  But  we  are  for- 
tunate in  having  the  testimony  of  many  of  the  most 
competent  and  experienced,  who  declare  that  the  most 
rudimental  vitalized  matter  which  the  microscope  dis- 
closes is  not  Dr.  Huxley's  "protoplasm,"  but  a  living 
tissue-cell,  with  its  vital  powers  of  nutrition  and  repro- 
duction. They  affirm  also  that  all  protoplasm,  or  liv- 
ing protein,  is  not  alike  in  form,  nor  in  constituent  ele- 
ments ;  and  so  marked  is  this,  that  microscopists  know 
by  the  appearances  of  these  different  varieties  Q{  protein, 
the  different  living  matters  whence  they  came.  Then, 
different  vitalities  construct  different  forms  of  protein 
out  of  the  same  elements.  Some  forms  are  entirely  in- 
capable of  being  nourished  by  some  other  forms,  which 


False  Evolution    Theory.  169 

should  not  be  the  case  were  all  protoplasm  alike.  While 
vegetable  vitality  can  assimilate  dead  matter,  animal, 
vitality  can  only  assimilate  what  has  been  prepared  for 
it  by  vegetable  (or  animal)  life.  They  tell  us,  finally, 
that  all  protein  is  not  endowed  with  contractility,  so 
that  the  pretended  basis  for  animal  motion  does  not 
exist  in  it. 

The  seemingly  plausible  point  in  this  chemical 
theory  of  life  is  the  attempted  parallel  between  the 
production  of  water  and  protoplasm.  Asks  Huxley  : 
"  Why  postulate  an  imaginary  cause,  *  vitality/  in  this 
case,  rather  than  'aquosity,'  over  and  above  chemical 
affinity,  in  the  other?"  The  answer  is,  that  this  anal- 
ogy is  false,  both  as  to  the  causes  and  the  effects  in  the 
two  cases.  In  the  production  of  water  from  the  two  gases, 
the  occasion  is  the  electrical  spark ;  the  real,  efficient 
cause  is  the  affinity  of  the  oxygen  for  the  hydrogen. 
In  the  reproduction  of  living  beings,  or  tissue,  the  effi- 
cient cause  is  the  living  germ  of  the  same  kind,  present 
beforehand.  The  proof  is,  that  if  this  is  absent,  all  the 
chemical  affinities  and  electrical  currents  in  the  world  are 
vain.  The  elements  in  a  living  tissue  are  held  together,, 
not  by  chemical  affinities,  but  by  a  cause  heterogene- 
ous thereto,  yea,  adverse  ;  the  departure  of  which  is  the 
signal  for  those  affinities  to  begin  their  action,  which 
action  is  to  break  up  the  tissue.  As  to  the  effects  in  the 
two  cases  ;  in  the  production  of  water,  the  electric  spark 
is  the  occasion  for  the  coming  of  a  potential  affinity  into 
action,  whence  a  compound  substance.  In  the  case  of 
the  living  body  there  is  an  effect  additional  to  composi- 
tion. This  is  life.  Here,  I  repeat,  is  an  effect  wholly 
in  excess  of  the  other  case,  which  affinity  cannot 
imitate.  Protoplasm  dead,  and  subject  to  the  decom- 
posing affinities  of  other  bodies,  is  the  true  analogue  of 
water. 

Physical  force  and  vital  causation  are  obviously  het- 
erogeneous.    The  former,  in  all  its  phases,  is  unintelli- 


170  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

gent,  involuntary,  measured  by  weight,  velocity,  and 
quantity  of  matter  affected,  producing  motion  or  equi- 
librium, mechanical  or  molecular.  Even  animal  life  has 
a  species  of  spontaneity.  Rational  spirit,  as  a  cause, 
has  the  unique  attribute  of  free-agency,  the  very  oppo- 
site of  inertia,  self-active  and  self-directing.  Mind  and 
its  modifications  cannot  be  measured  in  any  physical 
quantities  or  terms,  and  hence  it  cannot  be  correlated 
to  force.  Volition  is  not  transmuted  into  force,  but 
controls  and  resists  it.  The  natu?-e  of  vitality  is  to 
resist  the  material  forces,  such  as  chemical 4 affinity. 
When  life  departs,  these  resume  their  sway  over  the 
matter  of  the  body,  lately  living,  as  over  any  similar 
matter ;  but  as  long  as  the  vital  cause  is  present,  it  is 
directly  antagonistic  to  them  all. 

There  is  a  still  more  fatal  defect  in  this  hypothesis, 
the  "destructive  force  of  which  Huxley  has  himself 
pointed  out,  and  ingeniously  illustrated  in  another  con- 
nection. This  is  the  total  absence  of  actual  verification. 
No  man  has  ever  communicated  life  to  dead,  com- 
pounded matter.  Let  the  infidel  chemist  make  a  living 
animal  in  his  laboratory,  without  a  living  germ  ;  then 
only  will  his  hypothesis  begin  to  rise  out  of  the  region 
of  dreams.  There  are,  in  fact,  four  spheres  of  creature 
existence,  the  inorganic  or  mineral,  the  vegetable,  the 
animal,  and  the  human  or  spiritual.  Notwithstanding 
analogies  between  them  (which  is  just  what  reason 
should  expect  between  works  of  the  same  all -wise 
Architect),  each  is  separated  from  the  rest  by  inexor- 
able bounds.  No  man  has  ever  changed  any  inorganic 
matter  into  a  living  vegetable,  without  the  help  of  a 
preexisting  vegetable  germ  ;  nor  vegetable  matter  into 
animal,  without  an  animal  germ  ;  nor  animal  into  human, 
save  by  the  aid  of  a  human  germ.  The  scientific  (as 
well  as  the  theological)  conclusion  is,  that  there  is,  in 
each  of  these,  a  distinct  cause.  The  inference  bears 
every  test  of  a  sound  induction.  Huxley  claims  that 


False   Evohition    Theory.  1 7  \ 

when  his  propositions  about  the  identity  of  protoplasm 
are  once  accepted,  our  feet  are  upon  the  first  rung  of  a 
ladder  which  necessarily  leads  us  to  the  conclusion  that 
thought  and  volition  "  are  expressions  of  molecular 
changes  in  that  matter  of  life  which  is  the  source  of 
other  vital  phenomena  "  in  fungi  and  the  lowest  animals. 
This  is  a  specimen  of  the  absurd  license  of  this  pretended 
science  (which  might  more  accurately  be  styled  un- 
savory jesting),  which  aspires  to  overthrow  the  uni- 
versal convictions  of  rational  men  and  the  testimony  of 
Scripture  at  once.  If  the  premises  were  granted,  the 
conclusion  would  still  be  utterly  denied.  If  it  were 
proved  that  vegetable  phenomena  were  due  merely  to 
molecular  affinities  of  inorganic  matter,  animal  life 
would  still  be  separated  from  it  by  a  gre.at  gulf. 
Again,  if  animal  life  were  nothing  but  chemical 
action,  there  would  still  be  a  great  gulf  between  men- 
tal action  and  the  other  two,  as  impassable  as  ever. 
Thought  and  rational  choice  cannot  possibly  be  as- 
cribed to  a  substance  extended,  inert,  passive,  and  in- 
voluntary. 

Here  we  are  reminded  that  in  organized  creatures, 
there  is  something  more  than  the  physical,  or  even  the 
vital  causes  which  form  it;  design.  There  is  the  most 
ingenious,  successful,  diversified  adaptation  to  functions. 
Such  design  is  a  Tlicught ;  yea,  more,  such  intentional 
adaptation  discloses  volition.  Supp-^ss  now,  that  chem- 
ical affinities  can  form  protoplasm  ;  have  they  design, 
thought,  wisdom  ?  Says  Prof.  Jos.  Henry  :  If  I  melt 
together  brass  and  glass,  the  result  is  a  slag ;  and  that 
is  the  effect  which  physical  causes  produce.  If  I  fash- 
ion them  into  a  telescope,  that  is  the  kind  of  result 
which  Design  produces.  Dr.  Stirling,  of  Edinburgh, 
admirably  illustrates  this  license  of  Huxley's  pretended 
reasoning,  alluding  to  Paley's  famous  illustration  of  the 
argument  for  design  from  the  newly-found  watch: 
"  Protoplasm  breaks  up  into  Carbon,  Hydrogen,  Oxy- 


172  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

gen,  Nitrogen  ?  True.  The  watch  breaks  up  similarly 
into  brass,  steel,  gold,  and  glass.  The  loose  materials 
of  the  watch  [even  its  chemical  materials,  if  you  will,] 
replace  its  weight  quite  as  accurately  as  the  four  con- 
stituents, Carbon,  etc.,  replace  the  weight  of  the  '  pro- 
toplasm.' But  neither  these,  nor  those,  replace  the 
vanished  idea,  which  was  the  important  element.  Mr. 
Huxley  saw  no  break  in  the  series  of  steps  in  molecular 
complication  ;  but  though  not  molecular,  it  is  difficult 
to  understand  what  more  striking,  what  more  absolute 
break  could  be  desired,  than  the  break  into  an  idea. 
It  is  of  that  break  alone  that  we  think -in  the  watch; 
and  it  is  of  that  break  alone  we  should  think  in  the  pro- 
toplasm, which,  far  more  cunningly,  far  more  rationally, 
constructs  a  heart,  an  eye,  or  an  ear.  That  is  the  break 
of  breaks ;  and  explain  it  as  we  may,  we  shall  never 
explain  it  by  molecules."  Here,  then,  is  the  fatal 
chasm  in  the  materialistic  scheme.  Not  only  does  it 
overlook  the  essential  difference  between  inorganic  and 
vital  causes;  it  is  guilty  of  the  absurdity  of  ascribing  to 
the  blind,  unintelligent  force  .  of  protoplasm,  more 
thought,  choice,  and  wisdom,  than  all  the  philosophers 
in  the  whole  world  will  ever  attain  unto.  When  we 
rise  to  the  crown  of  the  series  of  living  creatures  in 
man,  the  absurdity  culminates  in  the  highest  conceiv- 
able extravagance ;  for  there  we  see  a  being  not  only 
displaying  the  highest  thought  about  him,  but  also  con- 
taining thought  in  him. 

3.  Let  us  look,  now,  at  the  part  of  this  structure  con- 
tributed by  Mr.  Darwin.  We  object,  first,  that  the 
favorite  law  of  "  natural  selection "  involves  in  its 
very  name,  a  sophistical  idea.  Selection  is  an  attribute 
of  free-agency,  and  implies  intelligent  choice.  But  the 
"  Nature  "  of  the  evolutionist  is  unintelligent.  She  acts 
by  hap-hazard.  To  apply  the  idea  of  selection  to  such 
fortuity  is  but  a  metaphor,  not  science.  Dr.  Darwin, 
perhaps,  seeing  this  fatal  objection,  thankfully  accepts 


False  Evolution    Theory.  173 

from  H.  Spencer  what  he  deems  the  more  accurate 
phrase,  "  survival  of  the  fittest."  But  we  still  have  the 
same  absurdity  insinuated  under  a  metaphor.  Fitness 
also  implies  design  !  Fitness  is  an  adjustment.  That 
the  physical  interaction  between  environment  and  or- 
ganism should  regularly  result  in  this  adjustment,  while 
totally  blind,  is  a  supposition  wild  enough.  But  a  mul- 
titude of  cases  might  be  found  where  the  notion  be- 
comes impossible,  because  the  fitness  existing  is  not 
between  the  being  and  its  ordinary  environment,  but 
between  it  and  some  other  being  which  it  rarely  meets, 
or  never  meets  once  in  its  existence.  The  natural 
venom,  for  instance,  of  the  rattlesnake,  is  a  contrivance 
fitted  only  to  destroy  its  assailants.  That  poison  has  no 
adaptation  whatever  to  its  ordinary  food,  or  companions, 
or  nest,  or  the  grass  and  leaves  over  which  it  glides ; 
its  only  "  fitness  "  is  to  destroy  an  assailant  which  the 
snake  may  not  meet  twice  in  its  life.  .Did  that  possible 
future  assailant  develop  the  poison  by  a  re-action?  It 
is  further  noted  by,Agassiz,  that  the  principle  of  life,  or 
cause  in  animated  nature,  notoriously  and  frequently 
produces  the  same  results  under  diverse  environments, 
and  diverse  results  again  under  the  same  environments. 
These  facts  prove  that  it  is  not  the  variable  kind  of 
cause  painted  by  the  evolutionist,  and  does  not  effect 
these  uniform  results  by  a  fortuitous  natural  selection. 

Evolutionists  not  only  admit,  but  claim,  that  a  vast 
tract  of  time  must  have  elapsed,  while  "natural  selec- 
tion," acting  blindly,  failing,  perhaps,  myriads  of  times 
where  it  succeeded  once,  and  then  only  establishing  the 
slightest  differentiations,  was  evolving  the  wondrous 
animated  universe  out  of  the  rudest  sperms.  The  re- 

o 

mains  of  the  failures  of  this  blind  striving  towards  de- 
velopment ought,  then,  to  be  a  myriad  times  as  numer- 
ous as  the  remains  of  the  successes.  For,  while  the 
corpses  of  mere  jelly-fish  and  such  like  were  perishable 
as  soon  as  dead,  and  may  have  mixed  with  the  undis- 


i  74  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

tinguished  loam  of  the  earth,  the  vast  genera  of  crusta- 
ceous  and  vertebrate  fishes  and  animals,  all  left  behind 
them  remains  capable  of  preservation  as  fossils.  Pal- 
aeontologists (to  whom  the  evolutionists,  of  all  men,  are 
bound  to  adhere,)  hold  that  great  masses  of  these  fossils 
actually  remain,  many  of  them  of  almost  incredible  age. 
But  they  all  represent  established  genera.  Where  are 
the  fossils  of  the  transitional  and  intermediate  links, 
which  ought  to  be  a  myriad  times  more  numerous? 
Were  evolutionism  true,  "  the  world  would  not  be  large 
enough  to  contain  them."  Again :  fossil  natural  his- 
tory should  present  us  with  both  sides  of  the  history  of 
the  blind  process  of  this  natural  selection,  with  the  fos- 
sils of  the  degraded,  the  unfit,  as  well  as  with  those  of 
the  developed  species.  How  is  it  that  Mr.  Darwin  only 
dwells  upon  the  latter?  especially  as  the  down-hill  side 
of  the  history  ought  to  be  ten  thousand  times  the  full- 
est. But  did  the  fossils  present  us  with  such  a  history, 
then  how  preposterous  would  it  be  to  call  the  course  of 
nature  an  "  evolution,"  when  nature's  decadences  would 
almost  infinitely  outnumber  her  advancements?  The 
evolution  theory  is  also  inconsistent  with  the  wide  dif- 
fusion of  some  of  the  highest  species  of  animals.  Man 
is  the  highest  and  most  complicated  result  of  this  sup- 
posed process.  Now  it  is  natural  to  suppose  that  the 
local  conditions,  or  environment,  necessary  for  evolving 
this  most  complicated  result,  would  be  most  rarely 
found.  But  man  is  found  more  widely  diffused  over 
the  globe,  and  multiplying  his  species  under  more  di- 
verse climates  and  conditions,  than  any  other  animal. 
This  is  inconsistent  with  the  result  to  be  expected  upon 
that  scheme. 

But  is  the  "survival  of  the  fittest  "  a  fact  in  nature? 
Where  it  does  exist,  is  it  not  rather  an  artificial  fact, 
due  solely  to  human  providence,  or  that  of  some  other 
rational  being  ?  Striking  variations  in  species  are,  in- 
deed, produced  by  the  arts  of  cattle  and  dog-breeders 


False  Evolution    Theory.  175 

and  bird-fanciers.  But  what  becomes  of  them  when 
left  to  "  nature?''  Surrender  any  individual  of  a  "  de- 
veloped "  variety,  to  the  rude  hand  of  nature,  and  its 
uniform  tendency  is  to  degradation.  On  a  prairie,  in  a 
state  of  nature,  the  developed  horse,  or  ox,  or  swine, 
would  be  the  first  to  perish  of  his  kind.  These  devel- 
oped varieties,  as  a  whole,  as  soon  as  the  rational 
providence  is  withdrawn  which  produced  them,  always 
tend  backward  towards  the  common  species  from  which 
they  originated.  Natural  historians  tell  us,  that  when 
incidental  causes  have  produced  variation  of  some  in- 
dividuals from  their  kindred,  the  difference  is  largest  in 
the  earliest  generations,  and  becomes  smaller  after- 
wards, unless  artificial  means  are  used  to  propagate  it. 
Such  variations  must,  then,  have  fixed  and  narrow 
limits.  All  breeders  know  the  tendency  of  improved 
races  to  "  fly  to  pieces,"  as  it  is  sometimes  expressed  in 
their  language.  That  is,  when  an  improved  type  has 
been  gained  by  crossing,  all  its  progeny  do  not  natu- 
rally reproduce  the  combined  good  points  of  the  two 
parents;  but  there  is  soon  manifested  a  violent  ten- 
dency in  many  of  them  to  follow,  to  an  exaggerated 
degree,  the  peculiarity  of  one  of  the  progenitors.  One 
individual  reproduces  so  exclusively  the  form  of  the 
sire,  another  so  exclusively  that  of  the  dam,  that  they 
seem  less  akin  to  each  other  than  do  members  of  the 
original,  unimproved  stock.  And  the  most  artful  vigi- 
lance is  required  in  preventing  these  heterogeneous 
individuals  from  propagating,  to  preserve  the  combined 
type  which  is  desired.  Thus  it  appears  that  the  natu- 
ral, as  distinguished  from  the  artificial  or  designed  law 
of  variation,  tends  to  produce  a  more  confused  and  a 
degraded  progeny,  instead  of.  an  advanced  one.  Let 
us  remember,  again,  that  the  natural  consequence  of 
the  violences  of  the  stronger  individuals  is,  on  the 
whole,  to  increase  the  hardships  of  the  conditions  under 
which  all  the  species  must  gain  subsistence.  What 


ij6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

clearer  instance  of  this  law  needs  to  be  sought,  than  in 
the  human  species,  where  the  savage  anarchy  produced 
by  the  violences  of  the  stronger  is  always  found  to  re- 
duce the  whole  tribe  to  destitution,  and  thus  to  physi- 
cal decadence?  Why  else  is  it,  that  Bushmen  are 
poorer,  shorter,  uglier,  and  feebler  than  Englishmen? 
Couple  this,  which  is  a  true  law  of  nature,  with  another  : 
that  usually  the  pampered  individuals  in  every  species 
are  the  least  fertile,  and  we  shall  see  that  the  natural 
tendency  of  animal  life  is  rather  to  the  survival  of  the 
inferior.  The  Andalusian  stud  was  left  to  "  nature," 
and  the  law  of  natural  selection,  in  Mexico  and  South 
America.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  "  mustang" 
pony  and  Pampa  horse  are  far  inferior  to  their  pro- 
genitor. Well  does  Dr.  Stirling  remark  here :  "  Natu- 
ral conjecture  is  always  equivocal,  insecure,  and  many- 
sided.  It  may  be  said  that  ancient  warfare,  for  instance, 
giving  victory  always  to  the  ablest  and  bravest,  must 
have  resulted  in  the  improvement  of  the  race.  Or : 
that  the  weakest  being  left  at  home,  the  improvement 
was  balanced  by  deterioration.  Or:  that  the  ablest 
were  necessarily  most  exposed  to  danger.  And  so — 
•according  to  ingenuity — usque  ad  infinitum.  Trust- 
worthy conclusions  are  not  possible  on  this  me-thod." 

Naturalists  teach  us  that  in  the  animal  world,  true 
hybrids  are  always  infertile.  The  familiar  instance  is 
that  of  the  mule.  The  ass  and  the  mare  can  propagate 
offspring,  but  that  offspring  can  propagate  nothing.  It 
there  is  any  small  exception,  that  exceptional  offspring 
is  absolutely  infertile,  and  is  usually  exceedingly  ill- 
developed,  or  reverts  towards  one  of  the  original  spe- 
cies, so  that  the  rub  remains  absolute.  Hybrids  cannot 
perpetuate  their  kind.  Huxley  in  his  "  Lay  Sermons,"  p. 
295,  very  absurdly  imagines  that  it  suits  his  purposes, 
in  one  aspect,  to  appeal  to  this  law  ;  for  it  annihilates  his 
hypothesis.  Surmising  that  certain  species  have  been 
produced  by  variation  and  natural  selection,  he  appeals 


False  Evolution    Theory.  177 

to  the  law  just  announced,  to  prove  that  these  are  now 
true,  distinct  species.  He  thus  gives  his  full  sanction 
to  the  law.  But  if  hybrids  cannot  perpetuate  their 
kind,  then  no  permanent  species  has  ever  arisen  by 
"  natural  selection  "  in  the  way  surmised  by  evolution- 
ists. For,  had  individuals  originated  thus,  they  would 
have  been  hybrids,  and,  so,  must  have  disappeared.  It  is 
the  fixed  judgment  of  sound  natural  historians,  that  in 
this  law  we  have  a  barrier  (doubtless  designed  by  the 
Creator)  which  must  ever  keep  the  genera  and  species 
of  living  creatures  distinct  and  permanent  in  the  main. 
Providence  thus  prevents  that  disastrous  intermingling 
of  types  of  organization,  shading  off  in  every  direction 
into  interminable  confusions  which  must  have  resulted 
in  the  fatal  degradation  of  all  the  genera. 

Dr.  Darwin's  supposition  is  obnoxious  to  the  same 
fatal  objection  brought  against  Mr.  Huxley's,  the  total 
absence  of  a  verification.  No  man  has  actually  created 
a  species  by  evolution,  which  was  permanent,  and  which 
met  the  other  requisitions  of  natural  science,  for  evinc- 
ing the  true,  distinct  species.  Men  have  produced 
varieties  of  pigeons,  dogs,  swine,  oxen,  and  horses : 
that  is  all.  Mr.  Darwin  does  not  pretend  to  claim  more 
in  the  arena  of  facts.  What  they  have  done  in  these 
cases  he  thinks,  looks  as  though  Nature  may  have  done 
more.  If  his  thought  be  a  just  one,  then  all  that  it  will 
entitle  him  to  infer  is  the  possibility  that  species  may 
have  begun  thus.  But  according  to  the  rules  of  logic, 
as  admitted  by  all,  that  "  may  be  "  can  never  rise  to  the 
position  of  a  scientific  truth,  until  it  is  verified  by  ac- 
tual observation.  We  are  given  to  understand  that 
they  have  no  such  instances.  Where  is  that  "  anthro- 
poid ape"  which  produced  a  man?  Where  is  there  a 
man  really  produced  by  the  ape?  Nobody  pretends 
to  have  seen  either.  In  fact,  verification  is  not  only 
lacking,  but  impossible ;  because,  the  supposition  puts 
this  whole  work  of  natural  selection,  as  to  any  distinc- 


178  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

tive  results,  so  far  back  in  the  past,  that  human  history 
has  not,  and  can  never  have,  any  record  of  a  single  one 
of  its  decisive  facts.  This  simple  view  should  leave  the 
whole  scheme  then,  were  men  imbued  with  the  true 
spirit  of  science,  among  the  mere  fancies  with  which 
poets  amuse  their  idleness.  It  is  related  to  science, 
just  as  Gulliver's  voyage  to  Lilliput  is  to  geography. 

But  there  are  extant  verifications  against  the  scheme. 
The  Darwinian  professes  a  huge  respect  for  palaeon- 
tology. He  must  in  consistency  profess  this  ;  for  if 
that  branch  of  natural  history  is  not  true,  all  the  pre- 
texts of  the  evolution  theory  are  gone.  Of  all  palaeon- 
tologists, the  Darwinian  has  to  be  the  most  ancient. 
Butif  palaeontology  is  true,  then  Darwinianism  is  proved 
false.  According  to  that  doctrine,  as  is  well  known, 
the  relative  ages  of  strata  can  be  known ;  and  it  can  be 
known  that  the  oldest  strata  contain  the  remains  of  the 
oldest  living  creatures.  Hence,  were  the  evolution 
scheme  true,  the  oldest  strata  must  necessarily  enclose 
the  remains  of  the  most  rudimental  creatures,  the  next 
later  strata  must  show  us  more  fully  developed  creat- 
ures, and  the  last  strata  and  the  surfaces  and  waters  of 
the  present  earth  must  give  us  the  most  fully  developed 
of  all.  But  it  is  not  so  :  as  testifies  the  best  and  most 
varied  palaeontology.  Mr.  Hugh  Miller  crushed  the 
"  vestiges  "  with  this  fact ;  showing  that  some  of  the 
fossils  discovered  by  him  in  strata  so  old  as  to  have  been 
supposed  too  old  for  any  organized  life,  were  of  quite 
well  developed  vertebrata.  Prof.  Agassiz  says  that  the 
strata  show  vertebrate  fishes  alongside  of  the  earliest 
mollusca,  and  just  as  old.  Couple  with  this  the  other 
facts,  that  the  very  simplest  forms  of  animal  life  exist 
now,  along  with  the  most  highly  developed,  in  appar- 
ently as  great  profusion  as  in  the  earliest  stages  of  life. 
Mr.  Hugh  Miller  also  showed,  that  when  once  a  given 
genus  appears  (by  its  remains)  in  the  stony  records,  the 
successive  generations  of  it  do  not  show  any  tendency 


False  Evolution   Theory.  1 79 

towards  an  improvement  into  higher  and  better  organ- 
isms ;  but  on  the  contrary,  the  later  generations  of  that 
genus   appear   rather  to  have   degenerated.     And,  at 
last,  the  fossil  record  seems  to  say  that,  having  become 
too  degenerate  to  endure  its  environment,  the  whole 
genus  perished,  leaving  nothing  that  had  life  behind  it. 
It  would  thus  appear  that,  in  the  old,  pre- Adamite  ages, 
as  in  the  centuries  between  the  coming  of  the  beauti- 
ful Andalusian  horse  to  Mexico,  and  the  evolution  of 
the  "  scrubby  "  Mustang  from  it,  "  survival  of  the  fit- 
test "    is    no   result  »of  natural   selection    at   all  ;    but 
where  it  occurs,  it  is  the  work  of  a  rational  providence, 
and  not  of  physical  forces.    Again  :  Agassiz,  with  other 
most  eminent  paleontologists,  declares  that  the  lesson 
they  read  from  the  "  stony  record,"  is,  that  when  the 
old  genera  began  it  was  not  by  any  natural  means ;  and 
when  they  perished,  they  left  no  progeny.     They  made 
a    clean   beginning  and   a  clean    ending ;    neither  was 
transitional.     The  fossil  remains  of  man  are  the  most 
conclusive  of  all.     The  most  ancient  skulls  and  skele- 
tons display  just  as  perfect  frames,  and  as  much  brain, 
as   the   modern    man.     During  all  the   ages   man    has 
existed  as  a  species,  there  is  no  discoverable  evolution. 
Next,  if  the  evolution  process  has  taken  place,  it  was 
a  physical  one ;  for  its  assertors  hold  that  it  is  the  work 
of  physical  forces.     They  also  teach  that  man  is,  thus 
far,  its  highest  and  best  fruit.     Then,  man  ought  to  be 
physically  the  strongest  and  greatest  animal.     But  he 
is  not.      Compared  with  many  of  the  mammalia  as  a 
beast,  he  is  an  inferior  beast.     The  young  human  infant 
has  far  less  instinct  and  locomotion  than  a  young  par- 
tridge, or  a  calf.      The    man    has  blunter   senses,  less 
strength,  and  less  sagacious  instincts,  than  the  eagle,' 
the  elephant,  and  the  gorilla.     He  has  less  longevity 
than  the  goose.      That  which  makes  him   the  nobler 
creature  is  not  animal  instinct,  nor  muscular  strength, 
nor  complicated  organs,  but  reason.     He  is  "lord  of 


180  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

creation"  by  his  Mind ;  but  for  that  many  other  beasts 
would  rule  over  him,  yea,  destroy  him. 

4.  We  now  reach  a  point  of  the  evolution  scheme 
where  we  collide  with  all  its  different  teachers.  That 
point  is  :  Whence  man's  mind  ?  They  have  to  answer, 
that  it  is  only  a  function,  evolved  from  mere  matter, 
through  the  animals.  Just  as  Dr.  Darwin  accounts  for 
the  evolution  of  the  human  hand  from  the  fore-paw  of 
an  ape,  so  all  the  wonders  of  consciousness,  intellect, 
taste,  conscience,  volition,  and  religious  faith,  are  to  be 
explained  as  the  animal  outgrowth  of  gregarious  in- 
stincts, and  habitudes  cultivated  through  them.  To 
any  man  who  has  either  a  single  scientific  idea  touching 
the  facts  of  consciousness,  or  a  single  throb  of  true  moral 
feeling,  this  is  simply  monstrous.  It,  of  course,  denies 
the  existence  of  any  substance  that  thinks,  distinct  from 
animated  matter.  It  utterly  misconceives  the  unity 
which  intuitively  must  be  found  underlying  all  the 
processes  of  reason  in  our  minds.  It  overlooks  utterly 
the  distinction  between  instinctive  and  rational  motives, 
thus  making  true  free-agency,  virtue,  moral  responsibil- 
ity, merit,  and  moral  affection,  impossible.  It  supposes 
that  as  the  sense-perceptions  and  instincts  of  the  beast 
have  been  expanded  by  association  and  habit  into  the 
intellect  of  a  Newton,  so  the  fear  and  habit  of  the  beast, 
cowering  under  his  master's  stroke,  or  licking  the  hand 
that  feeds  and  fondles  him,  are  the  sole  source  of  the 
noble  dictates  of  conscience  and  virtue.  The  holy 
courage  of  the  martyr,  who  braves  the  fire  rather  than 
violate  the  abstract  claims  of  a  divine  truth,  is  but  the 
outgrowth  of  the  brutal  tenacity  of  the  mastiff,  when  he 
endures  blows  and  torments  rather  than  unlock  his 
fangs  from  the  bloody  flesh  of  his  prey.  The  heroic 
fidelity  of  the  patriot,  in  the  face  of  the  grimest  death, 
is  but  the  quality  of  the  dog  which  will  fetch  and  carry 
at  his  master's  bidding.  The  disinterested  love  of 
Christian  mothers,  the  heavenly  charity  which  delights 


False  Evohttion    Theory.  181 

to  bless  an  enemy,  the  lofty  aspirations  of  faith  for  the 
invisible  and  eternal  purity  of  the  skies,  the  redeeming 
love  of  Jesus,  all  that  has  ever  thrilled  a  right  soul  with 
deathless  rapture  of  admiration,  and  elevated  man  to- 
wards his  Divine  Father,  are  destined  to  have  neither 
a  future  nor  a  reward,  any  more  than  the  fragrance  of 
a  rose,  or  the  radiance  of  the  plumage  of  the  bird,  or 
the  serpent's  scales.  After  a  few  years,  all  that  shall 
forever  be  of  the  creature  endowed  with  these  glorious 
attributes,  will  be  a  handful  of  the  same  dust  which  is 
left  by  the  rotting  weed.  The  spirit  which  looked  out 
through  Newton's  eye,  and  read,  through  the  riddles 
of  the  phenomenal  world,  the  secrets  of  eternal  truth 
and  the  glories  of  an  infinite  God,  went  out  as  utterly 
in  everlasting  night  as  the  light  in  the  eye  of  the  owl  or 
bat,  that  could  only  blink  at  the  sunlight.  These  are 
the  inevitable  conclusions  of  Evolutionism,  and  they 
are  an  outrage  to  the  manhood  of  our  race.  What  foul, 
juggling  fiend  has  possessed  any  cultivated  man  of  this 
Christian  age,  that  he  should  grovel  through  so  many 
gross  sophistries,  in  order  to  dig  his  way  down  to  this 
loathsome  degradation  ?  The  ancient  heathens  wor- 
shipped brute  beasts,  but  still  they  did  not  forget  that 
they  were  themselves  the  offspring  of  God.  It  remained, 
for  this  modern  paganism  to  find  the  lowest  deep,  by 
choosing  the  beast  for  his  parent,  and  casting  his  God 
utterly  away. 

Happily,  the  doctrine  is  as  false,  as  impossible  to  be 
true,  as  it  is  odious.  If  we  take  the  course  most  in 
favor  with  the  evolutionist,  external  observation,  we 
find  an  utter  lack  of  verification,  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  every  known  fact  refutes  the  supposition.  When 
we  ascend  to  the  earliest  ages,  we  find  from  history 
that,  although  human  knowledge  has  grown  by  accre- 
tion, the  soul  of  man  is  the  same  precisely,  in  faculties 
and  essence,  which  it  was  at  the  beginning  of  history. 
Nor  is  there  any  evidence  that  any  of  these  faculties 


1 82  Sensualistic  Philosophy, 

have  become  relatively  stronger.  Let  it  be  remembered 
that,  in  the  matter  of  the  accretions  of  knowledge,  we 
stand  upon  our  forefathers'  shoulders  :  we  begin  where 
they  left  off.  So  that  if  we  had  not  far  excelled  them 
as  to  the  aggregate  or  total  of  arts  and  knowledge,  that 
would  have  been  an  infallible  evidence  our  faculties  are 
in  themselves  inferior  to  theirs.  When  we  inquire  what 
was  the  strength  of  the  faculties  of  the  early  men,  we 
find  that  the  first  known  statesman  was  the  noblest  and 
grandest — Moses.  Homer,  the  earliest  of  poets,  has 
been  the  admiration  and  model  of  all  subsequent  poets. 
The  earliest  architecture,  the  pyramid  of  Cheops,  con- 
tinues to  be  the  wonder  of  the  world;  and  it  was  only 
by  the  latest  and  most  refined  applications  of  modern 
art  that  we  learned  (through  Mr.  Piazzi  Smith)  that  its 
builders  had,  in  that  primeval  day,  mastered  enough 
of  astronomy  to  give  their  building  a  more  accurate 
"  orientation  "  than  many  modern  astronomers  had  se- 
cured for  their  observatories,  besides  presenting  us  a 
wonder  of  power  and  grandeur  which  no  later  monarch 
or  people  has  attempted  to  rival.  Now,  if  the  faculties 
of  man  were  produced  by  a  law  of  evolution,  running 
through  all  matter  and  all  time,  that  process  would  be 
going  on  now,  as  well  as  in  all  the  past  of  human  his- 
tory. Ought  it  not  to  proceed  with  geometrical  prog- 
ress ?  At  least,  man  should  have  advanced  by  this  time 
to  faculties  as  essentially  different  from  those  of  Homer 
and  Moses  as  theirs  are  different  from  the  ape's.  Where- 
as, his  faculties  remain  precisely  the  same,  and  he  has 
only  advanced  in  that  accretion  of  facts  and  arts  which 
was  unavoidable  to  a  rational  creature,  not  positively 
decadent. 

Another  experimental  fact  is,  that  in  all  the  duration 
of  human  history  the  animals  have  evolved  nothing  es- 
sentially /different  from  their  earliest  faculties.  They 
have  just  the  same  powers  and  instincts  now  which 
they  seem  to  have  had  in  the  days  of  those  great  ancient 


False  Evolution    Theory.  183 

Natural-historians,  Aristotle  and  Solomon.  The  lower 
species  have  not  advanced  towards  the  higher ;  the 
higher  have  not  advanced  towards  man.  He  entraps 
the  wild  beasts  at  least  as  successfully  as  in  the  days  of 
Nimrod,  and  governs  the  elephant,  the  horse,  and  the 
ox,  just  as  in  the  days  of  Porus  and  Pyrrhus.  Practi- 
cally, the  chasm  between  brute-instincts  and  human  rea- 
son is  just  the  same  as  at  the  beginning.  Those  instincts 
can  be  educated,  or  can  even  educate  themselves,  with- 
in a  certain  narrow  limit.  Spiders  have  been  seen  to 
adopt  new  adjustments  for  their  webs,  when  subjected 
to  unforeseen  difficulties  ;  and  human  care  causes  some 
animals  to  do  things  which  others*  of  their  species  do 
not.  This  is  true.  And,  doubtless,  the  antediluvian 
spider,  or  the  one  which  was  in  Solomon's  house, 
showed  just  the  same  ingenuity.  Ancient  history  can 
give  us  the  same  sorts  of  wonders,  in  dancing  dogs  and 
learned  pigs,  with  modern.  But  there  the  evolution  al- 
ways stops.  No  one  has  taken  a  young  ape  and  educated 
it  into  a  man.  When  that  is  clone,  there  will  be  a  be- 
ginning in  the  demonstration  of  this  hypothesis,  and 
not  until  then.  Since  the  day  when  it  was  said,  "  Men 
do  not  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles," 
that  common  sense  of  mankind  which  is,  in  truth,  the 
most  solid  inductive  and  empirical  logic,  has  ever  de- 
cided that  an  invariable  difference  of  results  positively 
proves  a  difference  of  causes.  Since  men,  in  all  ages, 
do  a  multitude  of  things  which  no  brutes  ever  do,  we 
know  that  man  has  a  spirit  essentially  different  from  the 
brute's. 

Mr.  Darwin  endeavors  to  find  some  foothold  for  his 
doctrine  of  heredity  in  this  matter,  by  pointing  to  a  few 
cases  of  inherited  instincts,  not  supposed  to  be  original, 
in  animals,  and  a  few  cases  of  inherited  talents  in  men. 
We  do  not  know  that  the  original  wild  dog  "  stood"  its 
game.  The  pointer  and  setter  have  been  taught  to  do 
so,  until  their  progeny  inherit  the  instinct,  and  do  it 


184  Sens^lal^st^c  Philosophy. 

while  untrained  pups.  Doubtless,  the  original  dog  was 
taught,  like  all  other  beasts  of  prey,  by  his  instincts,  to 
crouch  for  his  prey,  or  to  pursue  it,  as  circumstances 
prompted.  Both  modes  of  pursuit  were  instinctive, 
and  human  art  has  only  evoked  one  to  the  disuse  of  the 
other.  We  are  told  that  progeny  sometimes  inherits 
the  special  talents  of  parents.  The  great  musician, 
Mozart,  was  the  son  of  a  musician.  Suppose  I  should 
reply,  that  more  frequently  the  children  do  not  inherit 
their  parents'  special  faculties?  Patrick  Henry  left  no 
orator  in  his  family  ;  Cromwell,  no  warrior.  The  truth 
is,  that  these  facts  are  within  very  narrow  and  individual 
limits.  Their  effect  upon  the  state  of  their  species,  as 
wholes,  is  at  last  naught.  The  individual  exceptions 
terminate  with  themselves,  or  within  narrow  limits  after 
them,  and  the  law  of  the  species  moves  on  as  before. 

Allow  man  a  distinct  spirit,  and  then  a  law  of  hered- 
ity becomes  intelligible,  because  there  is  a  substance 
capable  of  receiving  the  inheritance  of  culture.  But 
the  Evolutionist  refuses  to  allow  this.  He  insists  that 
the  talents  and  bents  of  the  philosopher  of  the  nine- 
teenth .  century  are  the  aggregated  inheritance  of 
powers  and  habits  acquired,  during  millions  of  years, 
from  myriads  of  progenitors,  all  the  way  between  man 
and  the  mollusk,  and  all  delivered  over  by  inheritance 
to  this  latest  offspring.  Yet  he  holds  that  the  genera- 
tion by  the  parent  is  only  the  transmission  of  an  organic 
germ  of  matter.  The  father's  spermatozoon,  a  micro- 
scopic speck  of  vitalized  matter,  which  can  contain  but 
a  few  molecules,  has  yet,  according  to  him,  received 
and  preserved  the  distinct  material  marks  of  all  these 
innumerable  differentiations,  and  these  varied  and  al- 
most angelic  pov/ers  !  Yet  the  man  who  can  believe 
this,  cannot  believe  that  there  is  immaterial  spirit,  be- 
cause it  is  neither  visible  nor  tangible  ! 

If  we  test  this  scheme,  which  evolves  mind  from  the 
instincts  of  the  brute,  by  internal  observation,  it  is 


False  Evolution    Theory.  185 

equally  exploded.  I  wish  to  reassert,  here,  the  position 
that  what  we  observe  in  our  own  consciousness  is  as 
truly  empirical  as  what  we  observe  without  with  our 
senses.  He  who  denies  this,  has,  in  spite  of  himself, 
denied  the  validity  of  sensible  experience  ;  because  no 
impression  on  the  senses  becomes  valid  cognition,  save 
as  it  enters  consciousness,  and  is  interpreted  therein. 
Now,  consciousness  informs  us  of  a  thinking  self,  a  unit, 
without  parts  or  extension.  The  rise  of  such  a  monad 
into  being  by  gradual  evolution  is  impossible.  A  habit 
may  arise  gradually,  but  mind  is  not  a  habit.  It  is  the 
distinct  spiritual  substance,  endowed  with  faculties, 
which  intellectual  habits  qualify.  Mind  is  not  a  habit ; 
it  is  the  spiritual  thing  on  which  habits  form.  The 
habits  may  come  by  development ;  the  substance  can- 
not. 

The  impossibility  of  this  genesis  is  especially  plain  in 
this,  that  it  must  suppose  psychological  faculties  gradu- 
ally superinduced.  There  must  have  been,  first,  in 
some  earlier  generation  of  men,  a  "  protoplastic  "  rea- 
son, conscience,  free-agency,  and  responsibility,  which 
were  still  three-quarters  or  half  animal  instinct,  and  the 
rest  mental.  But  every  man  who  ever* scanned  his  own 
acts  of  soul,  knows  that  in  all  their  stages,  and  in  all 
their  degrees  of  weakness  and  strength,  they  are  en- 
tirely above  and  different  from  animal  acts.  It  has  been 
asked  by  Evolutionists :  Is  not  the  growth  of  the  in- 
fant's mind  precisely  such  a  gradual  development  from 
animality  to  reason  ?  I  reply,  that  the  rational  principle 
is  not  developed  out  of  the  animal,  but  out  of  its  own 
nature,  which  had  been  present  alongside  of  the  animal 
all  the  time.  That  the  animal  has  not  passed  into  the 
rational,  is  plain  from  this  :  all  the  motions  of  the  animal 
nature  are  still  present,  and  it  is  one  chief  business  of 
the  rational  nature  to  resist  and  govern  them.  They 
are  not  identified,  but  are  either  enemies  or  master  and 
servant.  But,  chiefly,  in  whatever  degree  the  rational 


1 86  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

and  moral  functions  appear,  whether  in  a  rudimental 
or  a  perfect  form,  the)'  present  the  same  characteristic 
difference  from  the  animal  traits.  A  feeble  conscience 
is  no  more  lijce  appetite,  in  its  intrinsic  quality,  than 
the  conscience  of  a  Washington  or  a  Lee.  Dr.  Darwin, 
we  presume,  does  not  believe  in  the  transmutation  of 
metals  by  alchemy.  Were  a  chemist  to  show  him  some 
silver  produced  from  an  ore  of  lead,  he  would  never 
believe  that  lead  was  literally  changed  into  silver  ;  he 
would  pronounce  at  once  that  the  Galena  was  by  nature 
argentiferous,  and  he  would  demonstrate  it  by  showing 
that  all  the  percentage  of  lead  was  still  present  as  lead, 
after  the  silver  appeared.  No* more  do  we  believe  in 
this  moral  alchemy.  The  young  ape  is  never  developed 
into  a  virtuous  being  any  more  than  the  normal  human 
child  grows  into  a  mere  animal. 

In  a  word,  consciousness  has  its  facts  as  truly  as 
physics.  These  facts  separate  man  as  a  distinct  genus 
spiritually  even  more  than  his  bodily  shape  does  phys- 
ically. It  is  an  unreasonable  and  wilful  perversion  of 
science,  to  inspect  the  human  specimen,  and  refuse  tp 
note  his  chief  characteristics  because  they  are  mental. 
But  had  not  the  Evolutionist  persuaded  himself  that 
there  was  no  generic  separation,  he  would  never  have 
attempted  to  evolve  man's  faculties  thus. 

5.  Rational  objections  have  been  now  presented, 
which  entirely  break  the  force  of  any  plausible  appear- 
ances, and  place  the  evolution  theory  out  of  the  pale  of 
science.  The  most  that  can  be  claimed  for  it  is,  that  it 
is  an  ingenious  fancy.  The  mind  properly  imbued  with 
the  humble  and  cautious  methods-  of  inductive  science 
would  be  led  to  this  conclusion  by  the  contents  of  these 
writings  themselves.  Suppositions  have  to  be  added  to 
suppositions,  in  order  to  arrive  at  their  conclusions. 
Asserted  probabilities  are  quietly  exchanged  into  as- 
sumed certainties.  Propositions  introduced  as  condi- 
tional, are,  after  a  little,  made  absolute  without  right. 


False  Evolution    Theory.  187 

Many  a  "  may  be"  is  transmuted  into  a  "must  be." 
But,  were  all  these  yawning  chasms  closed  up,  the  ut- 
most which  could  be  made  of  the  evolution  hypothesis 
would  be,  that  it  contained  a  curious  possibility.  The 
student  who  supposes  that  the  authentic  secular  science 
of  the  day  concurs  in  it,  will  be  much  imposed  on.  A 
long  list  of  the  greatest  names  might  be  easily  given, 
who  totally  dissent.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned 
the  lamented  Agassiz  and  Professor  Joseph  Henry,  of 
America  ;  M.  Flourens,  of  the  French  Institute  ;  J.  Von 
Leibig,  Reute,  and  Wagner,  of  Germany  ;  Principal 
Dawson,  of  Canada  ;  while  we  pass  over  a  long  list 
of  the  greatest  names  in  Natural  History  equally  in- 
fluential. 

These  speculations  are  to  be  deplored,  in  that  they 
present  to  minds  already  degraded  a  pretext  for  mate- 
rialism, sensuality,  and  godlessness.  The  doctrine  can 
never  prevail  permanently  among  mankind.  The  self- 
respect,  the  conscience,  and  the  consciousness  of  men 
will  usually  present  a  sufficient  protest  and  refutation. 
The  world  will  not  permanently  tolerate  the  libel  and 
absurdity  that  this  wondrous  creature,  man,  "so  noble 
in  reason,  so  infinite  in  faculties,  in  form  and  moving  so 
express  and  admirable,  in  action  so  like  an  angel,  in  ap- 
prehension so  like  a  God/'  is  but  the  descendant,  at  long 
removes,  of  a  mollusk  or  a  tadpole. 

But  if  the  evolution  hypothesis  were  supported  by  all 
the  concurrent  observations  which  we  had  opportunity 
to  make,  to  the  theist  it  may  yet  become  wholly  worth- 
less. Let  it  be  only  supposed,  as  a  possibility,  that  the 
existence  of  an  all-wise,  almighty,  personal  God  can  be 
proved  by  lines  of  evidence  independent  of  this  debate, 
and  that  this  God  reveals  to  us  His  testimony  that  the 
universe  and  the  living  creatures  in  it  are  His  handi- 
work. *  We  shall  not  forget,  like  the  Evolutionist,  that 
supposition  is  not  proof;  we  shall  not  assume  the  truth 
of  this  supposition  any  farther  than  it  is  proved.  But 


1 88  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

we  wish  to  point  out  this  important  truth,  too  often 
overlooked,  that  in  such  a  case  a  hypothesis  as  to  the 
origin  of  nature,  however  supported  by  h  posteriori  ob- 
servations, would  stand  related  to  the  theistic  position 
precisely  as  "circumstantial  evidence"  does  to  the  tes- 
timony of  living1  witnesses  in  the  courts.  Judicial 
science,  charged  with  the  solemn  responsibilities  of  the 
life  and  death  of  the  citizens,  has  exactly  ascertained  the 
relations  and  rights  of  these  two  kinds  of  evidence. 
Upright  and  learned  judges  at  law  know  that  they  can- 
not,, when  dealing  with  life  and  death,  indulge  their 
fancies  in  the  logical  license,  which  too  often  constitutes 
the  serious  amusement  of  so-called  philosophers.  So, 
they  have  decided  that  circumstantial  evidence,  in 
order  to  destroy  the  testimony  of  a  competent  witness, 
must  be  an  exclusive  demonstration.  It  must  not  only 
satisfy  the  reason  that  the  criminal  act  may  have  been 
committed  by  the  accused  in  the  supposed  way,  but 
that  it  could  not  have  been  committed  by  any  other. 
An  enlightened  judge,  in  the  absence  of  eye-witnesses 
of  the  crime,  would  instruct  his  jury  that  the  defence  is 
entitled  to  test  the  accuser's  hypothesis  of  guilt  by  this 
rule,  namely  :  If  any  other  hypothesis  can  be  invented, 
even,  that  is  purely  imaginary  and  unsupported  by  a 
single  positive  fact,  to  which  all  the  circumstances 
given  by  the  prosecutor  can  be  reconciled,  that  is  proof 
of  the  incompleteness  of  the  accusing  hypothesis  ;  the 
accused  cannot  be  condemned.  This  law  of  evidence 
is  just.  For  the  hypothesis  of  innocence,  compatible 
with  the  nature  of  things,  and  reconciling  all  the  known 
facts,  although  absolutely  unsupported  by  positive  evi- 
dence, demonstrates  at  least  this,  that  another  hypoth- 
esis than  that  of  guilt  is  possible.  Now,  let  us  sup- 
pose a  crime  committed  without  known  eye-witnesses. 
The  prosecutors  examine  all  the  attendant  circum- 
stances 'minutely  and  study  them  profoundly.  Out  of 
them  they  construct  a  supposition  that  the  crime  was 


False  Evolution    Theory.  189 

committed  in  secret  by  A.  They  show  that  this  satis- 
fies every  fact  so  far  as  known.  They  reason  with  such 
ingenuity,  that  every  mind  tends  to  the  conviction  A 
must  be  guilty.  But  now  there  comes  forward  an 
honest  man,  who  declares  that  he  was  eye-witness  of 
the  crime,  which  he  saw  done  by  B,  and  not  by  A  ;  and 
on  inquiry,  it  appears  that  B  was  at  that  time  naturally 
capable  of  the  act.  Then,  unless  the  prosecutors  can 
attack  the  credibility  of  this  witness,  before  his  word 
their  case  utterly  breaks  down.  The  ingenuity,  the 
plausibility  of  th^ir  argument  now  goes  for  nothing. 
They  had  shown  that,  so  far  as  was  hitherto  known,  the 
act  might  have  been  done  by  A.  But  the  witness  testifies 
that,  in  fact,  it  was  dene  by  another  competent  agent, 
B.  The  judge  will  then  instruct  that,  unless  the  prose- 
cutors have  legitimate  means  to  contest  the  credibility 
of  the  witness,  the  argument  is  ended,  and  the  accused 
entitled  to  his  verdict  of  acquittal.  The  plausibility  of 
the  accusing  hypothesis  and  the  ingenuity  of  the  prose- 
cutors are  precisely  what  they  were  before.  So,  the 
facts  remain  as  they  were.  But  that  hypothetical  con- 
struction of  them  is  utterly  superseded  by  the  testimony 
of  the  eye-witness. 

I  take  these  pains  to  illustrate  this  familiar  principle 
of  evidence,  because  it  is  usually  so  neglected  by  un- 
believing naturalists,  and  even  by  theologians.  I  assert 
a  perfect  analogy  between  the  case  of  the  circumstan- 
tial accusations,  and  the  pretended  evolution  argument, 
as  arrayed  against  the  testimony  of  Revelations  or 
Natural  Theology.  To  all  but  the  thorough  atheist, 
this  analogy  is  conclusive.  If  there  is  any  valid  evi- 
dence from  any  other  source  than  the  phenomena  in 
question,  for  the  existence  of  a  personal  God,  all-wise, 
free,  and  omnipotent,  whether  from  Natural  Theology, 
History,  Tradition,  Miracles,  Prophecy,  spiritual  ex- 
perience, criticism  ;  and  if  that  God  has  testified  that 
He  was  the  eye-witness  (because  Agent)  of  a  different 


[90  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

genesis  of  things,  then  the  circumstantial  argument  of 
the  evolutionist  is  superseded.  However  ingenious, 
however  probable  and  seemingly  sufficient  in  the  light 
of  the  known  physical  facts  and  laws,  this  hypothesis 
yields  before  the  word  of  this  competent  witness.  Does 
that  theory  claim  that,  naturally  speaking,  organisms 
might  have  been  produced  by  evolution  ?  God  the 
Agent,  according  to  the  case  supposed,  tells  us  that 
in  point  of  fact,  they  were  otherwise  produced.  As 
'omnipotence  is  an  agency  competent  to  any  effects 
whatsoever,  if  the  witness  is  credible,  the  debate  is 
ended.  Biichnef  claims  that  the  evolution  theory  must 
be  true,  because  it  is  "  the  only  hypothesis  "  which 
naturally  accounts  for  the  organisms  which  we  see.  Is 
not  .God  another  hypothesis?  This  simple  question  ex- 
poses the  insolence  with  which  the  very  question  to  be 
settled  is  assumed!  In  plain  words:  if  evolutionism 
were  a  hypothesis  naturally  probable  (which  it  is  not, 
nor  even  possible),  it  would  amount  only  to  this  :  Here 
is  a  scheme,  which,  if  we  were  certain  there  is  no  God, 
might  possibly  give  the  origin  of  organized  things. 
From  this  slender,  conditional  ground,  it  incontinently 
leaps  to  the  conclusion  that  God  is  not,  and  that  evolu- 
tion did  everything. 

But  let  us  see  how  firm  is  our  position,  when  we  set 
a  Creator  of  "  eternal  power  and  godhead  "  against  such 
a  circumstantial  hypothesis.  I  assert  that  our  consis- 
tency appears  from  this  consideration  :  that  granting, 
even  for  argument's  sake,  a  personal  Creator,  then  ob- 
viously, whatever  rational  motives  prompted  Him  to 
create,  would  prompt  Him  to  produce  organisms  just 
as  natural  in  traits,  as  though  they  had  been  the  result 
of  natural  evolution.  Let  it  be  assumed,  I  repeat,  only 
for  argument's  sake,  that  there  is  a  God,  and  that  His 
all-wise  mind  saw  any  motive,  we  may  not  know  what, 
for  creating  horses,  for  instance.  Then  it  is  but  a  truism 
to  say,  that  the  same  motive  would,  of  course,  prompt 


False  Evolution    Theory.  191 

Him  to  make  them  na  ural  horses.  The  same  conclu- 
sion holds  of  any  other  created  thing.  One  motive  for 
creating  the  first  horses  would  be  clearly  revealed  by 
the  event :  namely,  that  they  might  be  natural  parents 
of  generations  of  horses  descending  from  them.  But 
the  first  horses  of  supernatural  origin  must  have  had, 
in  order  for  this  result,  every  trait  of  naturalness;  for 
otherwise  they  could  not  have  naturally  reproduced 
their  kind.  Does  not  the  science  of  Natural  History 
itself  define  unit)7  of  species  by  precisely  those  proper- 
ties which  are  transmitted  in  the  species  by  natural 
generation  ?  Then,  the  naturalness  of  th:it  first  horse 
could  not  infer  for  it  a  natural  origin,  until  you  had  by 
independent  evidences  demonstrated' the  absence  of  a 
Creator*  The  surmise  that  this  horse  came  by  evolu- 
tion is  worthless  to  demonstrate  the  absence  of  creative 
power,  for  the  simple  reason  this  must  be  first  proved 
absent,  before  that  surmise  is  good  for  anything. 

My  reasoning  can  be  extended  more  widely  than  to 
animals..  It  may  be  unsafe  to  assume  that  the  sover- 
eign, creative  mind  must  have  been  prompted  by  this 
or  that  final  cause  ;  but  it  is  perfectly  safe  to  say  that  it 
was  prompted  by  some  final  cause,  and  that  a  consis- 
tent one.  For  this  is  but  saying  that  the  Creator  is 
wise,  and  what  He  has  effected  is,  so  far,  a  disclosure  of 
what  He  intended  to  effect.  Now  we  knew  that  when 
God  was  engaged  in  creating  structures  both  organic 
and  inorganic,  He  intended  them  to  exist  under  the 
reign  of  natural  law,  because  we  see  him  uniformly 
place  them  under  that  law.  This  is  but  saying  that 
what  He  does  is  what  He  intends  to  do.  But  natural 
law  could  not  govern  that  which  continued  contra- 
natural  in  properties,  (as  well  as  supernatural  in  origin) ; 
therefore  God  must  have'  created  all  His  first  structures, 
whatever  they  were,  natural  in  properties,  while  super- 
natural in  origin.  Hence  it  is  preposterous  for  any  one, 
save  a  blank  atheist,  to  appeal  to  naturalness  of  traits 


1 92  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

alone,  as  a  sufficient  evidence  against  a  supernatural 
origin.  "  The  beginning  of  a  universe  regulated  by 
mechanical  laws,"  says  an  eminent  physicist,  "  must 
have  been  some  '  configuration,'  to  which  it  might  have 
been  brought  by  the  operation  of  the  same  mechanical 
laws,  from  an  antecedent  configuration  mathematically 
assignable.  Thus:  The  undisturbed  orbit  of  a  planet 
is  an  ellipse,  described  with  a  velocity  periodically 
varying  by  a  definite  law.  The  planet  passes  any  given 
point  of  its  orbit  with  the  same  velocity,  and  in  the 
same  direction,  in  each  recurring  round.  If  it  were 
arrested  there,  and  then  projected  with  that  velocity  in 
that  direction,  it  would  resume  identically  the  same 
orbit.  The  actual  motion  at  each  point  of  the  orbit  is, 
therefore,  the  necessary  projectile  motion  of  the  new- 
created  planet  at  that  point.  Hence,  wherever  created 
and  projected,  its  initial  motion  might  have  been  the 
result  of  centrifugal  action.  Thus  the  elliptical  circula- 
tion presents  no  marks  of  a  beginning  or  of  an  end.  As 
regards  the  terms  of  its  existence,  the  phenomenon  is 
dumb.  The  lesson  it  teaches  is  not  the  shallow  sophism 
that  it  has  no  beginning  or  end  ;  but  that  whatever  in- 
formation we  derive  on  these  points,  we  must  seek 
from  a  source  other  than  nature." 

The  inference  of  an  origin  by  mere  evolution,  from 
naturalness  of  the  structure  investigated,  may,  indeed, 
receive  a  complete  reductio  ad  absurdutn,  or  ad athcismum 
(which  is  the  same  thing),  by  applying  it  to  the  nebu- 
lar hypothesis.  This  is,  in  fact,  the  surmise  at  which 
evolutionists  usually  choose  to  make  their  stopping- 
place.  But  if  they  are  consistent,  they  should  not  stop 
there.  If  naturalness  of  condition  implies  necessarily 
a  natural  source  ;  then  this  universe  of  incandescent, 
rotating  star-dust  implies  a  state  of  nature  still  previous. 
For  does  not  vapor  suggest  evaporation ;  and  does 
not  sensible  heat  suggest  an  evolution  from  latency  ? 
Certainly.  Then  the  evolutionist  should  not  make  his 


False  Evolution    Theory.  195 

first  nebulous  matter,  his  first.  "  Beneath  the  lowest 
deep  a  lower  deep  still  threatening  to  devour  him  opens 
wide."  There  is,  therefore,  on  this  evolution  logic, 
absolutely  no  stopping  place,  but  a-  regressus  into  an  in- 
finite series  of  evaporations  and  condensations,  filling 
all  past  eternity,  each  act  of  the  drama  containing  the 
vast  existence  of  one  universe  measured  by  millions  of 
millions  of  years.  The  perfect  justice  of  this  reduction 
appears  from  this  :  that  it  is  precisely  the  result  of  Her- 
bert Spencer  at  the  summation  of  his  philosophy.  But  the 
ghastly  wickedness  of  the  conclusion  is  equal  to  its 
utter  absurdity  ;  the  former  appearing  in  the  fact  that 
it  pushes  God  clean  out  of  the  universe,  and  out  of 
eternity  itself;  the  latter,  in  the  thought  that  we  have 
here  precisely  such  an  infinite  series  of  finite  effects  (on 
an  exaggerated  scale)  as  Herbert  Spencer  himself,  in 
common  with  all  better  philosophers,  declares  to  be 
impossible.  The  time  was,  when  vulgar,  shallow  athe- 
ism, asked  flippantly,  "  Why  not  suppose  that  acorns 
produced  oaks,  and  oaks  acorns  from  all  eternity?" 
Philosophy  answered,  that  such  a  series  of  effects,  each 
dependent  and  finite,  yet  independent  as  a  series,  would 
be  a  contradiction,  a  mere  juggling  cheat  of  the  reason. 
Spencer  cannot  gainsay  the  answer.  Yet  the  residuum 
of  his  whole  pretentious  method  is,  to  give  us  precisely 
this  cheat,  in  the  form  of  an  infinite  series  (not  of  acorns 
producing  oaks,  and  oaks  acorns,  but)  of  universes 
"ending  in  smoke,"  and  smokes  evolving  universes! 

But  the  evolutionist  may  retort,  that  the  independent 
evidence  of  the  theist  for  a  personal  God  has  been,  thus 
far,  only  supposed,  not  presented,  and  the  doctrine  of 
evolution  disables  us  from  ever  presenting  it  validly. 
Evolution,  say  they,  has  exploded  the  teleological  ar- 
gument for  the  existence  of  a  God.  Dr.  Huxley  de- 
clares that  the  "  Origin  of  Species  "  gives  the  death- 
blow to  that  argument.  He  quotes  professor  Kolliker, 
of  Germany,  as  saying  that,  although  Darwin  himself 
13 


194  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

retains  the  teleological  conception,  his  own  researches 
show  it  to  be  a  mistaken  one.  Says  the  German  savant  : 
"  Varieties  arise  irrespectively  of  the  notion  of  purpose, 
or  of  utility,  according  to  the  general  laws  of  Nature  ; 
and  they  may  be  either  useful,  or  hurtful,  or  indiffer- 
ent." So,  the  "  advanced  "  evolutionists  generally. 
They  evidently  interpret  the  bearings  of  the  evolution 
theory  aright.  Nature,  in  reproducing  her  kinds,  has 
a  ceaseless  tendency  to  variations.  This  law  is  physical 
and  blind  ;  it  knows  nt>t  when  it  hits  a  success  or  a 
failure.  But  in  virtue  of  an  infinity  of  hap-hazard 
trials,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  miss  all  the  time,  it 
sometimes  evolves  an  improvement.  Then  the  struc- 
tures thus  improved,  by  virtue  of  the  "survival  of  the 
fittest,"  exist  and  multiply.  Thus,  only  give  them  ages 
vast  enough,  and  they  think  they  can  construct  all  the 
cunning  master-pieces  of  this  universe,  so  "  full  of  the 
wisdom  of  God,"  without  purpose,  mind,  or  will,  by 
blind  chance.  Says  a  French  evolutionist :  "  Cicero 
has  illustrated  the  teleological  argument  by  saying  that 
if  one  told  him  the  admirable  poems  of  Ennius  were 
produced  by  the  chance  tumbling  of  a  multitude  of 
characters  out  of  a  basket,  he  should  pronounce  the 
story  incredible.  But  give  me  an  eternity  in  which  to 
repeat  my  experiment  of  casting  the  basket  of  types 
out,  and  I  shall  at  last  doubtless  produce  the  poem." 
H.  Spencer  asserts  that  it  is  mcjfre  anthropomorphism  in 
us,  to  interpret  nature  Ideologically.  When  we  adapt 
anything  to  an  end,  we,  of  course,  design  and  contrive. 
But  it  is  absurd  to  conclude  that  therefore  Nature  does 
the  same.  Thus,  this  reasoning  from  the  contrivances 
manifest  in  nature,  up  to  a  Creator's  contriving  mind, 
which  has  commanded  the  assent  of  every  sound  mind 
from  the  days  of  Job,  Moses,  Socrates,  and  Aristotle,  to 
our  own,  is  contemptuously  repudiated. 

In  support  of  the  teleological  argument,  I  would  re- 
mark, first,  that  this  philosophy  of  blind  chance  is  in  no 


False  Evolution    Theory.  J95 

sense  less  absurd  than  the  old  pagan  theory,  which  re- 
ferred all  the  adjustments  of  creation  to  a  "fortuitous 
concurrence  of  atoms."  It  is  indeed,  but  the  same 
doctrine,  revamped  and  refurbished,  which,  under  the 
scornful  logic  of  Socrates,  has  be^n  cast  out  to  the  con- 
tempt .of  science,  pagan  and  Christian,  for  two  thousand 
years.  The  Evolutionist,  in  advancing  it,  requires  us 
to  go  back,  discarding  all  the  acquisitions  of  human 
civilization  in  this  department,  and  immerse  ourselves 
in  the^stupidity  of  barbarism. 

I  remark,  second,  it  is  impossible  to  persuade  the 
common  sense  of  mankind  that  blind  chance,  whose  sole 
attribute  is  chaotic  disorder,  is  the  source  of  the  admir- 
able order  of  this  complicated  universe.  Something 
does  not  come  out  of  nothing.  Teach  any  sane  man  the 
beautiful  structure  of  the  human  eye,  with  its  numerous 
and  delicate  arrangements  for  its  special  function  ;  teach 
him  that  man's  optical  science  required  ages  of  cultiva- 
tion before  he  could  even  comprehend,  and  other  years 
of  study  before  he  could  imitate  those  wondrous  adjust- 
ments ;  and  then  tell  him  that  a  blind  cause  did  it  all. 
He  will  exclaim  :  "  He  that  formed  the  eye,  shall  not 
He  see  ?"  An  American  evolutionist  has  confessed  that 
when  he  thought  of  the  attempt  to  apply  his  theory  to 
the  production  of  a  human  eye,  it  at  first  "  made  him 
shiver."  Well  might  he  shiver  !  The  convulsion  was 
the  protest  of  his  outraged  nature  against  so  monstrous 
a  wrong  to  itsxeason.  The  fancy  that  it  can  hold  true 
is  a  sickly  delusion. 

They  ask  us  :  "  Since  blind  chance  may,  amidst  the 
infinite  multitude  of  its  experiments,  happen  upon  any 
results  whatsoever,  why  may  it  not  at  times  happen 
upon  some  results  wearing  these  appearances  of  orderly 
adaptation?"  I  answer:  the  question  puts  the  case 
falsely.  Sometimes?  No.  Always.  The  fact  to  be 
accounted  for  is,  that  Nature's  results  have  always  an 
orderly  adaptation.  The  question  we  retort,  then,  takes 


196  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

this  crushing  form  :  How  is  it  that  in  every  one  of 
Nature's  results,  in  every  organ  of  every  organized 
creature,  which  is  known  in  living  or  fossil  Natural 
History,  if  the  structure  is  comprehended  by  us,  we 'see 
the  orderly  adaptation  ?  Where  are  Nature's  failures  ? 
Where  the  vast  remains  of  that  infinite  mass  of  her  hap- 
hazard, aimless,  orderless  efforts  ?  On  the  evolution 
theory,  they  should  be  myriads  of  times  as  numerous  as 
those  structures  which  received  some  successful  adapta- 
tion. Let  us  recur  to  the  illustration  of  the  Frenchman, 
employing  an  eternity  in  throwing  a  basket  of  printer's 
type  abroad  blindly,  until,  after  perhaps  an  infinite 
number  of  throws,  he  happened  to  get  precisely  that 
collocation  which  cotnposed  the  martial  poems  of  En- 
nius.  Why  might  it  not  happen  at  last?  Suppose,  I 
reply,  that  the  condition  of  his  experiments  were  this : 
that  JLC  should  throw  a  different  basket  of  types  in  each  trial, 
and  that  a  considerable  part  of  all  the  types  thrown  in  vain 
should  remain  heaped  around  him  ;  then,  he  and  his  ex- 
periments would  have  been  buried  a  thousand  times 
over  beneath  the  rubbish  of  his  failures  long  before  the 
lucky  throw  were  reached.  But  this  is  the  correct  state- 
ment of  .the  illustration.  The  simple  making  of  this 
statement  explodes  the  whole  plausibility,  leaving  noth- 
ing but  a  bald  absurdity.  For,  as  has  been  already 
stated,  Evolution  must  admit  the  teachings  of -Palaeon- 
tology. But  the  latter  asserts  that  the  organized  beings 
of  vast  ages  still  exist,  in  the  form  of  fossils.  Now,  will 
the  Evolutionist  pretend  that  the  durable  remains  of  the 
hurtful  variations  were  less  likely  to  continue  in  the 
strata  than  those  of  the  naturally  selected  ?  Not  one 
whit.  Then,  there  should  be,  on  his  supposition,  as 
large  a  portion  of  the  printer's  types  from  every  un- 
successful ''throw  "  left  for  our  inspection  as  from  the 
sole  successful  one.  Where  are  they?  No  living,  no 
fossil  creature  is  found  without  complete  adjustments 
to  the  ends  of  its  existence  ;  or,  if  there  are  apparent 


False  Evolution    Theory.  197 

exceptions,  it  is  only  because  we  have  not  yet  knowl- 
edge enough  to  comprehend  them.  Through  every 
grade  of  ancient  fossil  life,  if  we  are  able  at  all  to  under- 
stand the  creature  whose  remains  we  inspect,  we  find 
the  same  admirable  adjustment  to  the  conditions  of  its 
existence.  This  is  as  true  of  the  rudimentary  as  of  the 
most  developed.  The  genus  may  be  now  totally  extinct, 
because,  in  the  changes  upon  the  earth's  surface,  the 
conditions  of  its  existence  have  passed  away.  But, 
while  those  conditions  existed,  the  organs  of  that  genus 
were  perfectly  adapted  to  them.  So,  if  there  is  in  any  ex- 
isting creature  a  structure,  whose  orderly  adaptation  to 
an  end  is  not  seen,  it  is  only  because  we  do  not  yet  un- 
derstand enough.  Such  is  the  maxim  of  true  science  ; 
and  it  is  the  prime  organ  of  its  advancements.  An- 
atomists, before  Dr.  Harvey,  had  seen  the  valvular 
membranes  in  the  veins  and  arteries  opening  different 
ways.  That  great  man,  in  the  spirit  of  true  science, 
assumed  that  they  must  have  their  final  cause,  inasmuch 
as  a  rational  Creator  placed  them  there  ;  and  it  was  by 
following  this  postulate  that  he  was  led  to  the  circula- 
tion of  the  blood.  So,  in  all  true  science,  now,  the  cer- 
tainty that  every  structure  has  its  final  cause,  is  the 
pole-star  of  induction.  It  is  a  safe  prediction,  that  so 
soon  as  this  new  doctrine  of  darkness  is  established  in 
physical  science,  there  will  be  an  end  of  all  its  splendor 
and  progress. 

But,  to  return  :  will  the  evolutionist  seek  to  evade 
this  ruinous  consideration,  by  saying  that  natural  selec- 
tion has,  long  before  our  day,  worked  to  such  advanced 
results,  that  nothing  is  now  evolved  unfitted  for  sur- 
vival? Such  a  resort  is  impossible  for  them  ;  first,  be- 
cause it  would  be  a  sheer  surrender  of  their  favorite 
dogma  of  the  uniformity  of  nature  ;  second,  because  it 
would  retract  their  fundamental  law  of  perpetual  varia- 
tion, which,  if  it  operates  at  all,  must  produce  differen- 
tiations favorable,  unfavorable,  and  indifferent  ;  and, 


198  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

last,  because  the  remains  of  palasontologic  life  go  back 
to  the  most  rudimental  forms  of  vegetable  and  animal 
life,  so  that,  if  evolution  were  true,  the  records  still  left 
to  us  ought  to  include  the  whole  history,  with  all  its 
blind  blunders,  as  well  as  its  successes.  There  is  no 
escape  for  the  Evolutionist  from  this  demand.  He  must 
show  us  fossil-evidences  of  the  evolution,  containing 
specimens  of  all  the  countless  degradations  by  variation, 
of  all  the  unfitted  for  survival,  of  all  the  intermediate 
shades  through  which  genus  was  differentiated  from 
genus,  of  all  the  blind,  non-adapted  abortions,  as  well  as 
of  the  few  lucky  advancements.  He  must  show  them 
in  numbers  at  least  proportional  to  the  myriad  fold 
numbers  of  their  classes.  But  he  cannot  show  us  a 
single  one ! 

1  argue,  again :  that  marks  of  designed  adaptation 
are  not  confined  to  those  organic  creatures  which  prop- 
agate their  kind.  The  permanent  inorganic  masses  also 
disclose  the  teleological  argument  just  as  clearly.  Con- 
trivance is  as  obvious  in  the  planetary  circulations,  and 
in  the  tides  and  winds,  as  in  the  eye  of  the  man 'or  the 
wing  of  the  bird.  "  The  undevout  astronomer  is  mad." 
Newton  saw  the  handiwork  of  God  in  the  heavens  as 
plainly  as  Paley  in  the  animal  kingdom.  Maury  has 
shown  us  as  beautiful  a  system  of  adaptations  and  as 
delicate  adjustments,  in  the  currents  of  the  sea  and  air, 
as  in  the  organic  life  of  their  denizens.  But  have  sun, 
moon,  and  stars  propagated  so  often  as  to  give  blind 
chance  scope  and  verge  enough,  at  last,  to  evolve  all 
their  wonders  of  wisdom  from  her  blundering  experi- 
ments? The  evolutionist  derives  those  bodies  from 
nebulous  matter.  We  were,  not  aware  that  he  supposed 
a  multitude  of  generations  of  planets  had  intervened 
between  these  which  we  now  see  displaying  their 
Maker's  wisdom,  and  the  first  revolutions  of  the  nebu- 
lous mass  which  generated  them.  The  evolutionist 
needs  to  have  fossil  planets  as  plentiful  as  polypi,  in 
order  to  work  out  his  theory  with  them. 


False  Evolution    Theory.  199 

Again  :  were  this  theory  all  conceded,  the  argument 
from  designed  adaptation  would  only  be  removed  a 
step  backwards.  If  we  are  mistaken  in  supposing  that 
God  made  the  first  of  every  living  creature  after  its 
kind  ;  if  the  higher  ones  were,  in  fact,  all  developed 
from  the  lowest,  then  the  question  recurs  :  Who  plan- 
ned and  adjusted  these  wondrous  powers  of  develop- 
ment? Who  endowed  the  cell-organs  of  the  first  rudi- 
mentary living  creatures  with  the  different  fitnesses  for 
diversified  evolutions?  Who  provided  for  all  these 
varied  arid  admirable  results  from  means  apparently  so 
simple  and  similar  ?  There  is  a  teleological  evidence 
at  least  equal  to  that  revealed  in  the  Mosaic  genesis. 
The  justice  of  this  statement  appears  thus :  Those 
Christians  who  concede  the  theory  of  a  "  creation  by 
law  "  (as  I  conceive,  very  unwisely  and  inconsistently) 
do  not  think  that  they  have  thereby  weakened  the 
teleological  argument  in  the  least.  Another  evidence 
of  the  justice  of  my  point  appears  in  the  language  of 
evolutionists  themselves ;  when  they  unfold  what  they 
suppose  to  be  the  results  of  their  scheme,  the  marks  of 
design  and  final  cause  are  so  indisputable,  that  the 
phrases  "  beautiful  contrivance,"  "  marvelous  adjust- 
ment,'5 and  such  like,  are  extorted  from  them  unwit- 
tingly. This  is  the  testimony  of  their  own  conrmon 
sense,  uttered  in  spite  of  a  perverse  and  shallow  theory. 

But  evolutionists  claim  that  they  can  point  us  to  in- 
stances of  selective  arrangement  wrought  by  the  unin- 
telligent forces  of  nature,  just  as  striking  as  anything  upon 
which  theists  found  the  teleological  argument.  Huxley 
retorts  to  M.  Flourens,  that  if  he  would  go  to  the  coasts 
of  his  own  Brittany,  he  would  find  the  senseless  winds 
of  the  Bay  of  Biscay  selecting  the  heavy  and  the  lighter 
particles  of  sea-sand,  and  placing  them  in  different 
belts  along  the  shore.  We  are  also  reminded  that  it  is 
possible  for  a  hurricane  to  transplant  a  sapling  to  a  new 
seat  in  the  soil.  I  reply,  that  these  instances  delude 


2OO  Sensual  is  lie  Philosophy. 

them,  by  reason  of  their  overlooking  two  obvious 
truths.  One  is,  that  when  such  an  adapted  result  is 
thus  established,  the  hap-hazard  natural  agent  is  but 
the  occasion,  not  the  cause  of  the  effect :  the  other  is, 
that  they  are  led  to  imagine  the  unintelligent  agent  has 
wrought  an  orderly  result  only  by  bringing  in  other 
parts  of  the  workings  of  nature,  and  other  agencies, 
which  taken  together,  do  involve  that  very  feature  of 
orderly  and  systematic  contrivance  which  they  are  en- 
deavoring not  to  see.  Let  us  explain  the  latter  remark 
first.  In  order  to  show  that  the  blind  sea  winds  select 
the  grains  of  sand  and  separate  them,  Huxley  has  tacitly 
to  borrow  other  combined  agencies,  which  are  a  part  of 
the  Creator's  wisely  adjusted  system  ;  the  gravitation  of 
matter,  the  configuration  of  the  hills  and  shores,  the 
groves  of  trees.  It  is  to  the  combined  action  of  all 
these,  that  the  seeming  assorting  and  separation  of  the 
grains  of  sand  are  due,  not  to  any  power  in  the  blind 
winds  bj-  themselves.  Who  planned  that  combination 
of  actions?  This  is  the  very  question  which  Huxley 
begs.  He  tacitly  borrows  the  effects  of  a  rational  con- 
trivance, to  account  for  the  result  without  contrivance. 
"If  he  had  not  ploughed  with  my  heifer,  he  had  not 
found  out  my  riddle."  The  student  will  see  this  whole 
illusion  exploded,  if  he  will  restrict  Huxley  within  the 
effect  proper  of  one  blast  of  wind.  Inspect  any  given 
sand  hill ;  has  this  blind  agent,  in  a  single  case,  observed 
any  order  or  method  whatever  in  depositing  any  set  of 
grains  of  sand,  as  to  each  other?  Not  in  one  single 
case.  They  are,  as  related  to  each  other,  deposited  at 
random;  the  blind  cause  has  resulted  in  a  blind  effect. 
We  see  thus,  that  when  we  eliminate  the  powers  of  a 
combined  and  adjusted  system  of  natural  causes,  which 
contains  the  very  point  in  debate,  each  blind  cause 
is  found  to  produce  results  without  order,  as  com- 
mon sense  had  always  believed.  If  a  man  walking 
over  a  field  sees  grains  of  corn  deposited  in  a  geometri- 


False  Evolution    Theory.  201 

cal  order,  with  an  obvious  design  to  tillage  (in  rows),  he 
knows  that  a  rational  agent  did  it.  Tf  he  examines  the 
same  field  strewn  over  with  scattering  hail-stones  by  a 
storm,  he  knows  that  he  will  find  the  fragments  of  ice 
distributed  without  any  order,  inter  se ;  because  an  un- 
intelligent agent  acted  in  that  particular.  As  said  Prof. 
Jos.  Henry, When  natural  force  combined  the  brass,  glass, 
steel,  and  gold,  the  only  result  was  a  mass  of  slag,  or 
cinder;  when  mind  combined  them,  the  result  was  a 
telescope.  Here  is  the  naked  difference  between  the 
blind,  and  the  intelligent  cause  ;  when  men  think  they 
have  evaded  it,  they  only  deceive  themselves. 

The  other  illusion  of  the  evolutionist  was  in  con- 
founding mere  occasion  with  cause.  The  wind  may 
happen  to  drop  a  sapling  which  the  torrent  had  just 
torn  up,  and  to  drop  .it  with  the  heavier  end,  which 
happens  to  be  the  root,  downwards,  into  a  chasm  of 
earth  which  the  same  hurricane  had  just  made  by  up- 
rooting a  forest  tree.  But  I  ask :  Who  arranged  the 
atmospheric  laws  which  move  hurricanes?  "  Who  regu- 
lated the  law  of  gravity  which  made  the  root-end  of  the 
sapling  fall  downwards  ?  And  especially,  who  endued 
the  roots  of  that  sapling,  as  its  twigs  were  not  endued, 
with  the  power  of  drawing  sap  from  the  moist  earth? 
Did  the  blind  hurricane  do  all  that?  But  without  all 
that,  no  growth,  no  real  transplantation  would  have 
resulted;  the  sapling  would  have  remained  as  true  a 
wreck,  as  random  a  castaway,  as  any  piece  of  rotting 
seaweed  cast  upon  the  bea  ;h.  So  that  it  turns  out,  the 
wind  was  but  occasion,  and  not  real  cause  of  the  result. 
In  every  such  instance,  the  evolutionist  tacitly  avails 
himself  of  a  selected  adapt  .tion,  whic  .  was  outside  any 
and  every  specific  blind  cause,  and  was  essential  in 
order  to  a  result.  We  conclude,  then,  that  the  great 
teleological  argument  for  God's  existence  stands  un- 
shaken and- impregnable.  The  common  sense  of  civil- 
ized mankind  has  not  been  thus  mistaken  in  believing 


2O2    .  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

that  where  design  is  obvious,  there  must  be  a  De- 
signer. 

I  have  thus  led  the  student  through  a  somewhat  ex- 
tended criticism  of  the  evolution-theory  ;  viewing  it  as  it 
is  an  ally  to  the  kindred  cause  of  materialistic  atheism. 
Having  estopped  the  materialist  from  this  path,  by  which 
he  attempts  to  escape  the  existence  of  spirit  and  God, 
we  return  to  the  old  conclusion,  and  we  accept  th'e  exist- 
ence of  both.  Thus,  the  common  faith  of  all  the  virtu- 
ous, and  all  the  truly  wise,  of  all  ages,  nations^  and 
creeds,  is  found  unshaken  by  this  recent  storm  of  words. 
I  purpose  to  conclude  with  a  brief  review  of  what  is 
also  a  powerful  argument,  the  moral  affinities  of  the 
two  philosophies. 

We  saw  that  the  practical  effect  of  Darwin's  specu- 
lations was  to  make  man  one  among  the  beasts.  But 
Huxley  and  his  comrades  would  end  by  reducing  both 
man  and  beast  to  the  level  of  the  clod.  Why  is  it,  that 
any  mind  possessed  even  of  the  culture  displayed  in 
these  ill-starred  speculations,  does  not  resent  the  un- 
speakable degradation  which  they  inflict  upon  man- 
kind ?  Men  would  not  thus  outrage  their  own  natures, 
without  an  interested  motive.  That  motive  is,  doubt- 
less, in -many,  the  craving  for  license  from  moral  re- 
straints, and  release  from  that  accountability  to  a  holy 
God,  which  remorse  foreshadows.  In  the  more  decent 
it  is  probably  a  semi-conscious  vanity  of  intellect,  itch- 
ing for  a  place  apart  from  the  common  crowd  of  think- 
ers, and  a  semi-conscious  craving  for  the  liberty  of  an 
irresponsible  self-will.  They  wish  not  to  have  this 
Christ  to  reign  over  them,  To  the  sinful  mind  viewing 
its  destiny  superficially,  it  may  seem  a  fine  thing  to 
have  no  omniscient  Master ;  to  be  released  from  the 
restraints  of  law  ;  to  be  held  hereafter  to  no  account  for 
conscious  guilt.  But  let  us  see  whether  even  guilty 
man  has  any  motive  of  self-interest  to  say  m  his  heart, 
44  There  is  no  God,"  whether  atheism  is  not  at  least  as 
horrible  as  hell. 


False  Evolution    Theory.  203 

The  best  hope  of  materialism  is  annihilation.  This  is 
a  destiny  terrible  to  man,  even  as  he  is,  conscious  of 
guilt,  and  afraid  of  his  own  future.  Does  he  plead,  that 
if  this  fate  robs  us  of  all  happiness,  it  is  at  least  an  ef- 
fectual shield  against  all  misery?  I  reply:  The  de- 
struction of  man's  being  is  a  true  evil  to  him,  just  to  the 
extent  that  he  ever  experienced  or  hoped  any  good 
from  his  own  existence.  How  strong  is  the  love  of  life  ? 
Just  so  real,  and  so  great,  is  the  evil  of  extinction.  Sec- 
ond, but  for  guilt  and  fear,  a  future  immortality  would 
be  hailed  by  any  living  man  as  an  infinite  boon.  Of  this, 
annihilation  would  rob  us.  How  vile  is  that  theory  of 
existence,  which  constrains  a  rational  free  agent  to  em- 
brace the  hope  of  an  infinite  loss,  solely  as  a  refuge  from 
his  own  folly  and  sin  ?  The  vastness  of  this  miserable 
robbery  of  self  can  be  poorly  cloaked  by  the  wretched 
fact,that  this  soul  has  so  played  the  fool  and  traitor  to 
its  own  rights  and  destiny,  that  it  is  now  self-compelled 
to.elect  the  infinite  loss  of  annihilation,  rather  than  meet 
an  alternative  still  more  dire  ! 

But  materialism  and  atheism  do  not  make  one  sure 
of  annihilation.  Despite  his  denial  of  a  spiritual  sub- 
stance, the  materialist  has  a  conscious  identity,  which 
has  somehow  been  continued  through  a  number  of 
molecular  and  organic  changes  in  that  which  he  sup- 
poses its  seat ;  it  may,  therefore,  continue  in  spite  of 
death.  It  is  the  character  of  his  philosophy  to  believe 
that  "  the  thing  which  hath  been  is  that  which  shall  be." 
Some  materialists  have  professed  to  believe  in  immor- 
tality. But  should  it  be  that  man  is  immortal,  and  yet 
has  no  God,  this  itself  will  be  eternal  despair.  For  no 
materialistic  theory  can  then  expel  from  the  man  those 
immutable  realities,  sensibility,  hope,  fear,  sin,  guilt, 
accountability,  remorse  ;  for  their  presence  in  us  is 
more  immediately  testified  by  our  consciousness,  than 
any  physical  fact  can  be,  which  men  attempt  to  employ 
as  a  datum  for  this  one-sided  philosophy.  At  least, 


204  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

when  death  comes,  that  "  most  wise,  mighty,  and  elo- 
quent "  teacher  dispels  the  vain  clouds  of  materialism, 
and  holds  the  soul  face  to  face  with  these  realities,  com- 
pelling him  to  know  them  as  solid  as  his  own  conscious 
existence.  But  now,  if  the  materialist-theory  is  true, 
there  is  no  remedy  for  these  miseries.  There  is  no 
God  omnipotent  to  cleanse  and  deliver.  There  is  no 
Redeemer,  in  whom  dwell  the  divine  wisdom,  power, 
love,  and  truth,  for  man's  rescue.  The  Bible,  the  only 
book  that  ever  professed  to  tell  fallen  man  of  an  ade- 
quate salvation,  is  discredited.  Providence  and  Grace 
are  banished  out  of  the  existence  of  helpless,  suffering 
man.  There  is  no  object  to  whom  we  can  address 
prayer  in  our  extremity.  In  place  of  a  personal  God 
and  Father  in  Christ, — the  fountain  and  exemplar  of  all 
love  and  beneficence,  to  who.n  we  can  cry  in  prayer, 
on  whom  we  may  lean  in  our  weakness  and  sorrow, 
who  is  able  and  willing  to  wash  away  guilt  and  heal 
depravity,  who  is.  suited  to  be  our  adequate  portion 
through  an  eternal  existence, — we  are  left  to  confront 
this  infinite  Nature,  material,  impersonal,  reasonless, 
heartless.  There  is  no  supreme,  rational,  or  righteous 
government  over  man;  and  when  the  noblest  senti- 
ments of  the  soul  are  crushed  by  wrongs  so  intolerable, 
that  their  perpetual  triumph  is  felt  to  be  more  hateful 
than  death  ;  there  is  not,  nor  shall  there  ever  be,  to  all 
eternity,  any  appeal  to  compensating  justice!  But  our 
only  master  is  an  irresistible,  blind  machine,  revolving 
forever  by  the  law  of  a  mechanical  necessity;  and  the 
corn  between  its  upper  and  nether  mill-stones  is  this 
multitude  of  living,  palpitating,  human  hearts,  instinct 
with  their  priceless  hopes,  and  fears',  and  affections,  and 
pangs,  writhing  and  bleeding  forever  under  the  re- 
morseless grind.  The  picture  is  as  black  as  hell  itself. 
He  who  is  "  without  God  in  this  world,"  is  "without 
hope."  Atheism  is  despair. 

This  doctrine   will  never   win  a  permanent  victory 


False  Evolution    Theory.  205 

over  the  human  mind  :  the  utmost  it  can  do  is,  to  be- 
tray a  multitude  of  unstable  souls  to  their  own  perdi- 
tion, by  flattering  them  with  an  entire  impunity  in  sin  ; 
and  to  visit  Christendom  with  periodical  spasms  of 
anarchy  and  crime.  With  masses  of  men  the  latter 
result  will  always  compel  this  doctrine  to  work  its  own 
cure.  For  upon  its  basis,  there  can  be  no  moral  distinc- 
tions, no  right,  no  wrong,  no  rational  obligatory  motive, 
no  rational  end,  save  immediate,  selfish,  and  animal  good, 
and  no  rational  restraints  on  human  wickedness.  The 
consistent  working  of  materialism  would  turn  all  men 
into  beasts  of  prey,  and  earth  into  Tophet.  Fortunately, 
the  traditionary  and  involuntary  influences  of  Christian- 
ity cause  many  of  its  opponents  to  be  inconsistent ;  and 
we  are  always  glad  to  concede  to  such  of  them  as  de- 
serve it,  the  credit  of  being  better  than  their  creed. 
Tyndal  insinuates  that  atheism  is  the  ennobling  doc- 
trine, contrasted  with  Christianity.  For  were  not 
Democritus,  Epicurus,  Lucretius,  like  Prof.  Tyndal, 
extremely  moral  and  virtuous  men?  Nay,  do  not  their 
characters  stand  in  favorable  contrast  with  Ariose  of  the 
Christian  divines,  especially  in  view  of  the  dereliction 
of  these  naughty  men  from  that  species  of  toleration  of 
opinion  (the  infidel  philosopher's  cardinal  virtue)  which 
regards  an  assault  upon  the  infinite  excellence  of  our 
Redeemer  as  an  entirely  proper  object  of  complacent 
regard,  and  which  has  no  heat  of  indignation  for  any 
error  whatsoever,  save  the  error  of  being  zealous  for 
truth  and  righteousness  ?  Unless  Tyndal  regarded  his 
audience  as  fatuous,  the  impertinence  of  this  portraiture 
of  his  pet-atheists  as  the  good  people  is  almost  fatuous. 
Does  "  one  swallow  make  a  Summer?"  Shall  the  two 
trees  be  tried  by  their  fruits  ?  Then,  we  must  not  take 
an  exceptional  case  from  among  the  unbelievers  to  com- 
pare with  an  exceptional  case  anrtong  nominal  Christians. 
The  exceptional  atheist  may  be,  as  we  hope  Prof.  Tyn- 
dal is,  a  decent  and  benevolent  person,  not  because  of, 


206  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

but  in  spite  of,  his  professed  principles.  He  is  prob- 
ably made  decent  by  the  indirect  influences  of  that 
Christianity  which,  he  professes  to  contemn.  Mr.  Tyn- 
dal,  if  \ve  mistake  not,  was  the  son  of  a  worthy  non-Con- 
formist minister  of  the  Christian  Church.  The  Chris- 
tian virtues  of  the  father  descend,  to  some  extent,  to  the 
son.  But  let  him  rear  his  sons  and  grandsons  consist- 
ently in  atheistic  opinions  and  among  atheistic  com- 
panions, and  we  shall  see  the  fruit.  The  fair  mode  of 
comparing  the  fruits  is  to  contrast  the  whole  body  of 
atheistic  materialists  with  the  whole  body  of  sincere 
Christians.  Then,  on  the  one  side  W2  have  such  char- 
acters as  the  Jacobins  and  sans-culottes  of  Paris  in  her 
two  reigns  of  terror,  and  those  original  "  Positivists," 
the  Bushmen  of  Africa,  and  the  blacks  of  Australia;  on 
the  other,  we  have  nearly  all  that  has  been  good  and 
true  and  pure  in  Christendom  and  without  it. 

Fortunately,  even  the  partial  establishment  of  this 
Godless  doctrine  produces  mischiefs  so  intolerable, 
that  human  society  refuses  to  endure  them.  Besides 
this,  the  soul  is  incapable  of  persistent  atheism  or 
materialism,  because  of  the  inevitable  demands  of  those 
constitutive  laws  of  thought  and  feeling  which  qualify 
it  as  a  rational  spirit.  These  cannot  be  abolished  by 
any  conclusions  drawn  from  themselves,  for  the  same 
reason  that  streams  cannot  abolish  their  own  fountains. 
The  sentiment  of  religion  is  omnipotent  in  the  end. 
We  may  rest  in  assurance  of  its  ultimate  triumph,  even 
without  appealing  to  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
whom  Christianity  promises  as  the  onyiipotent  coad- 
jutor of  the  truth.  While  irreligious  men  explore  the 
facts  of  Natural  History  for  fancied  proofs  of  a  crea- 
tion without  a  Creator,  the  heralds  of  the  Gospel  will 
continue  to  lay  their  hands  upon  the  heartstrings  of 
immortal  beings,  and  find  there,  for  all  time,  the  powers 
to  overwhelm  unbelief.  Does  the  divine  deal  only 
with  things  spiritual  ?  But  these  spiritual  conscious- 


False   Evolution    Theory.  207 

nesses  are  more  stable  than  all  the  other's  primitive 
granite.  Centuries  hence,  if  man  shall  continue  in  his 
present  state  so  long,  when  these  grovelling  theories  of 
unbelief  shall  have  been  assigned  to  that  limbus  where 
polytheism,  alchemy,  and  judicial  astrology  lie  con- 
temned, Christianity  will  be  still  subduing  the  nations 
and  blessing  the  world  with  its  beneficent  sway. 

There  is  an  argument,  ad hominem,  by  which  this  dis- 
cussion might,  with  strict  justice,  be  closed.  If  mate- 
rialism is  true,  then  the  pretended  philosopher  who 
teaches  it  is  a  beast,  and  we  are  all  beasts.  Brutes  are 
not  amenable  to  moral  law  ;  and  if  they -were,  it  is  no 
murder  to  kill  a  beast.  But  brutes  act  very  consistently 
upon  certain  instincts  of  self-preservation.  Even  they 
learn  something  by  experience.  But  this  teaches  us 
that  the  propagator  of  these  atheistic  ideas  is  preparing 
intolerable  mischief;  for,  just  so  far  as  they  have  pre- 
vailed, they  have  let  loose  a  flood  of  misery  upon  man- 
kind. Now,  then,  these  teachers  are  venomous.  The 
consistent  thing  for  the  rest  of  us  animals,  who  are  not 
serpents  or  beasts  of  prey,  is  to  kill  them  as  soon  as  they 
show  their  heads  ;  just  as  whenever  the  stags  see  a 
rattlesnake,  they  cut  him  in  pieces  with  the  lightning 
thrusts  of  their  keen  hoofs.  Why  is  not.  this  conclusion 
perfectly  just  ?  The  only  logic  which  restrains  it  is, 
that  Christianity,  which  says  that  we  shall  not  shed 
man's  blood,  "  because  in  the  image  of  God  made  He 
man  ;"  but  which  these  men  flout.  The  only  reason  we 
do  not  justly  treat  atheists  thus  is,  that  we  are  not,  like 
them,  atheists. 


CHAPTER  X. 

VALIDITY   OF  A-PR1ORI   NOTIONS. 

necessity  for  this  chapter  in  our  discussion, 
again,  illustrates  the  trite  maxim  :  "  Extremes 
meet."  We  -have  seen  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  after  be- 
ginning on  the  most  extreme  sensualistic  ground,  and 
adopting  the  most  extreme  Nominalism  as  to  our  ab- 
stract ideas ;  borrowing  the  most  vicious  of  the  tran- 
scendental features  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  "  rational 
realism  "  from  him  and  Mr.  Basil  Mansel.  The  philos- 
opher of  Materialism  attempts  to  prove  by  these,  his 
adversaries,  that  all  our  knowledge  is  merely  relative, 
and  that  God  is  unknowable  (along  with  all  other  un- 
conditioned conceptions).  The  real  amount  of  Spen- 
cer's whole  process,  we  saw,  was  but  this  :  That,  since 
God  is  "  unthinkable,"  philosophy  should  discard  Him, 
and  refer  everything  to  a  single  principle  :  force  eternally 
persistent.  And  that,  as  all  material  phenomena,  which 
he  holds  the  only  "  thinkable  "  ideas,  the  more  fully 
their  causes  are  understood,  are  more  nearly  reduced 
to  a  single  invariable  law,  the  creation  of  a  philosophy 
must  consist  in  the  unification  of  all  sciences  as  laws 
of  a  single  power,  and  all  the  effects  of  the  universe, 
whether  material,  mental,  or  supernatural  (so  called),  as 
effects  of  that  single  power  :  eternal  force. 

I  showed  the  student,  very  briefly,  but  very  clearly, — 
confirming  my  assertion  by  Mr.  Spencer's  own  admis- 
sions,—  that  if  we  let  him  take  his  choice,  then  his 
matter  and  his  force-God  have  become  as  absolutely 
"unthinkable"  as  spirit  and  God.  I  pressed  the  fatal 
(208) 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  209 

question  :  If  the  fact,  that  our  ideas  of  spirit  and  God 
are  unconditioned,  must  expel  them  from  our  philos- 
ophy, why  should  not  the  same  fact  expel  Mr.  Spencer's 
ideal  matter  and  his  force-God  also  ?  Why  not  ?  Why 
must  we  sacrifice  the  convictions  of  all  wise  men  for 
three  thousand  years,  with  the  intuitions  of  conscience 
and  all  the  hopes  of  our  immortality,  in  order  to  get 
rid  of  one  pair  of  "  unthinkables,"  that  we  may  adopt 
another  pair  confessedly  as  ''unthinkable?"  Why? 
To  the  plain  mind  no  reason  appears  ;  we  are  required 
to  do  it  simply  on  the  ground  of  caprice,  that  Mr. 
Spencer  appears  to  have  an  obstinate  prejudice  both 
against  God  and  his  own  soul.  (The  latter,  possibly, 
better  founded  than  the  former.)  He  chooses  to  prefer 
another  pair  of  "  unthinkables  "  of  his  own  invention. 
I  also  urged  the  question:  Why  is  the  reference  of  all 
effects  to  one  power  necessary  to  the  unification  of 
man's  knowledge  into  a  true  philosophy  ?  Because  of 
the  observed  permanency  and  inter-consistency  of  nat- 
ural law  ?  No  :  for  true  philosophy  answers,  that 
this  observed  fact  is  abundantly  satisfied  by  the  omnip- 
otent providence  of  the  supernatural,  divine  Power, 
over  the  natural.  Why,  then,  trample  on  all  the  dem- 
onstrations of  separate  spiritual  powers,  presented  by 
the  intuitive  consciousness  of  our  own  free-agency  and 
by  natural  theology,  in  order  to  "unify"  what  is  al- 
ready completely  unified  ?  I  pressed  this  question  : 
Why?  Really,  there  is  no  answer,  save  that  Mr. 
Spencer  prefers  to  have  it  so.  He  does  not  like  this 
unification  in  the  ruling  will  of  One  who  is  perfectly 
wise,  good,  holy,  and  true  :  that  is  the  residuum  of  all 
his  profundity.  In  a  word,  1  showed  that  his  whole 
system,  if  it  could  be  anything,  could  only  be  a  fclo  de  se  : 
if  it  makes  the  old  natural  theology  impossible,  it,  for 
the  stronger  reason,  makes  his  own  impossible. 

This  is  all  that  the  modern  unbelief  accomplishes, 
when  its  premises  are  conceded.     But  the  interests  of 
14 


2 TO  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

truth  forbid  our  conceding1  those  premises.  We  do  not 
concede  that  human  cognitions  are  only  relatively  valid. 
While  we  are  very  willing  to  concede  that  that  impos- 
sible something-nothing,  the  unconditioned  abstract,  is 
unknowable,  we  do  not  concede  that  an  Infinite  Being 
is  unknowable.  The  predictions  made  by  sober  minds 
of  the  unsafeness  of  these  Hamiltonian  speculations,  and 
especially  of  their  exaggerations  in  the  hands  of  some 
of  Hamilton's  followers,  have  been  fully  verified :  it  is 
time  they  were  corrected.  I  believe  I  shall  be  able  to 
show,  by  a  few  very  simple  distinctions,  that  these  ex- 
travagances also,  where  they  are  not  the  mere  results 
of  verbal  ambiguities,  are  the  fruits  of  a  sensualistic 
heresy,  retained  in  the  bosom  of  a  rational  system. 

We  have  been  required  to  proceed  thus:  All  cogni- 
tions are  such,  only  as  they  are  known  in  conscious- 
ness.    The  essential  condition  of  all  consciousness  is 
the  distinction  of  the  "  Me  "  and  the  "  Not-Me."    Hence, 
all  cognition  is  a  relation:  hence  the  conclusion  of  the 
relativity  of  all  knowledge.     Now,  there  is  a  sense  in 
which    this   is,  of  course,  true.     The   relation    of  the 
"  Not-Me"  to  the  "  Me,"  in  consciousness,  is  the  condi- 
tion of  all  knowing.     But  the  vicious  sense  put  upon 
this  almost  truism  is  another  thing,  namely  :  that  our 
knowledge  is  all  only  a  relation;  in  such  a  sense  that 
the  modification  of  the  nearer  term,  or  pole   thereof, 
namely,  of  the  modes  of  consciousness  of  the  "  Me," 
would  change  the  whole  of  the  cognitions.     Thence  it 
would  follow,  that  the  mind  can  have  no  guarantee  of 
the  validity  of  any  cognition-in-itself,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
impossible  for  our  subjective  consciousness  to  test  the 
validity  of  its  own  modes  by  any  judgment ;  the  dis- 
tinction of  the  "  Me  "  and  the  "  Not-Me  "  being,  as  all 
concede,  the  sole  condition  of  all  judgments.     Now,  the 
first  remark  I  make  upon  this  sophism  is,  that  it  is  but 
a  new  statement  of  the  old  system  of  absolute  scepti- 
cism.    The  man  who  has  followed  it  out  with  a  consis- 


Validity  of  A-Priori  Notions.  211 

tent  thoroughness  is  the  universal  sceptic  who,  like 
Hume,  doubts  the  validity  of  all  cognition.  For  I  see 
not  how  this  process  can  be  applied  to  lead  me  to  the 
relativity  of  any  knowledge,  without  proceeding  the 
whole  length.  But  this  absolute  scepticism  has  been 
shown  again  and  again  to  be  not  only  utterly  degrad- 
ing and  ruinous  to  man,  but  a  specimen  of  logical  sui- 
cide.* 

Again  :  This  doctrine  of  the  mere  relativity  of  knowl- 
edge is  but  another  way  of  stating  the  doctrine  of  the 
pure  idealist.  Bishop  Berkeley  was  but  making  a  par- 
tial application  of  it,  when  he  reasoned  that  sensation 
really  gives  us  no  certainty  of  the  existence  of  an  ex- 
ternal world.  Kant  was  but  making  a  partial  applica- 
tion of  it,  when  he  concluded  that  the  judgments  of  the 
pure  reason,  though  unavoidable,  are  invalid.  J.  S. 
Mill  is  but  doing  the  same  when  he  concludes  that  the 
only  knowledge  we  have  of  matter  is  of  a  "  permanent 
possibility  of  sensations  to  us."  And  Hamilton  is  also 
travelling  the  same  path  of  idealism,  or,  in  other  words, 
of  (partial)  scepticism,  when  he  concludes  that  our 
knowledge  of  the  secondary  properties  of  bodies  is 
only  relative  ;  while  he  holds  that  our  knowledge  of 
substance  and  of  primary  qualities  is  immediate.  Mill 
has  proved  that  Hamilton  is  inconsistent  in  not  going 
farther;  that  he  has  leaped  off  the  precipice,  and  yet 
endeavors  to  stop  in  mid-air.  Hamilton  thinks  that  by 


*  In  Veitch's  Life  of  Hamilton,  p.  153,  are  two  letters  from  M.  Victor 
Cousin,  evoked  by  the  famous  article  of  the  former  on  Cousin's  Eclecti- 
cism in  the  Edinburgh  Review.  Cousin  thus  confirms  my  charge  :  "  Je 
me  permets  d'appeler  votre  attention  sur  la  theorie  de  la  Raison,  et  vous 
prie  de  la  bien  m6diter  avant  de  la  rejeter  definitivement :  car  toute  la 
question  du  scepticisme  y  est  engagee,  et  je  crois  que  si  je  vous  tenais 
la,  je  vous  prouverais  que  vous  <5tes  sur  la  route  du  scepticisme.  II  ne 
faut  pas  avoir  peur  du  mot  ftabsolu? 

Again  :  "  Prenez  garde,  je  vous  prie,  de  ne  pas  laisser  degenerer  la 
philosophic  ecossaise  dans  un  scepticisme  nouveau,  qui  ne  vaudrait 
gueres  mieux  que  1'ancien." 


212  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

discarding  the  representationist  theory  of  perception, 
and  by  asserting  that  the  reality  of  bodies  and  their 
primary  properties  are  immediately  known  in  con- 
sciousness, he  has  saved  these  from  the  idealistic  ten- 
dency. We  have  assurance  of  their  validity,  not  in  the 
fact  of  sensation,  but  in  the  intuitive  facts  of  the  reason. 
Mill  shows  that  upon  his  admission,  this  cannot  dimin- 
ish the  relativity  of  these  cognitions.  So,  I  assert,  Mill, 
Kant,  Berkeley,  are  equally  inconsistent,  in  stopping 
half-way.  If  they  take  the  leap  at  all,  they  should  rec- 
oncile themselves  to  alight  in  the  black  abyss  of 
Hume.  If  the  process  with  which  they  all  set  out 
were  solid,  it  would  prove  the  mere  relativity  of  all 
knowledge,  as  well  as  of  a  part.  And  here  is  my  prac- 
tical ground  for  concluding  that  the  process  is  a  cheat. 
For  how  can  I  be  required  to  adopt  the  self-contradic- 
tion :  that  I  certainly  know,  I  certainly  do  not  know, 
that  which  I  do  know  ?  That  is  consistent  scepticism  ! 
The  chasm  which  has  been  unwittingly  leaped  in  this 
process  is,  after  all,  very  simply  disclosed.  Cognition 
takes  place  by  means  of  some  relation  of  the  "  Not- Me  " 
to  the  "  Me."  Granted.  Therefore,  cognition  is  merely 
that  relation  ?  I  do  not  grant  it ;  this  is  a  non-sequitur  : 
and  it  begs  the  whole  question  in  inquiry  ;  which  is 
this,  whether  by  means  0/the  relation  of  the  u  Not-Me  " 
to  the  "  Me,"  valid  cognition  arises.  Let  us  illustrate 
by  a  similar  non-sequitur,  which  betrays  the  sensualistic 
character  of  this  whole  way  of  reasoning.  Says  the 
Sensualist :  "  The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  no  other 
than  that  of  simple  immediate  sequence:  the  notion  of 
a  power  in  cause  is  illusory.  For  has  the  mind  any 
other  experimental  knowledge,  than  of  the  relation  of 
sequence  ?  "  Reason  answers  :  that  it  is  by  means  of 
this  perception  of  a  sequence,  that  the  mind  sees  effi- 
cient power  in  the  cause  ;  but  our  reason  refuses  to  con- 
found the  seen  relation  by  means  of  which  the  presence 
of  the  efficient  power  is  known,  with  that  known  power. 


Validity  of  A  -Priori  Notions.  2 1 3 

This  rational  and  necessary  cognition  we  get  in  any 
instance,  by  means  of  the  seen  relation  ;  but  it  is  not 
merely  the  same  as  the  relation.  Let  our  common 
sense  make  a  similar  correction  in  this  argument  for  the 
mere  relativity  of  our  knowledge,  in  all  other  cases. 
Our  cognitions  are  first,  immediate  intuitive,  and  sec- 
ond, derived  or  illative  ;  the  validity  of  the  latter  de- 
pends on  that  of  some  immediate  intuitive  cognitions, 
which  are  premises.  The  question  is :  Are  our  minds 
validly  entitled  to  any  intuitive  cognitions  gotten  by 
them  in  the  occurrence  of  any  relations  of  the  "  Not- 
Me  "  to  the  "  Me  "  ?  To  this  question  I  reply :  Yes. 
Shall  I  be  now  required  to  prove  my  affirmative  ?  No  ; 
for  that  requirement  would  be  paradoxical ;  it  is  absurd 
to  prove  a  first  truth  which  has  no  premise  behind  it 
from  which  to  conclude  a  proof.  And  must  I  now  as- 
sert again,  that  foundation-truth  of  logic,  never  denied 
by  any  thoughtful  philosopher  of  any  school,  that  there 
must  be  primitive  judgments  of  the  mind,  or  else  there 
can  be  no  derived  ones?  This,  surely,  is  sufficiently 
trite. 

We  find,  then,  when  we  make  this  simple  distinction, 
separating  our  intuitive  cognitions  from  those  mere 
relations  of  the  "  Not-Me  "  to  the  "  Me  "  (which  are  the 
occasions  of  our  intuition),  that  the  question  needs  only 
to  be  stated  aright,  to  answer  itself  aright.  Has  my 
mind  a  true,  spiritual,  seeing  power  ?  or  is  it  only  a 
term,  a  pole,  of  a  relation  between  the  "  Me  "  and  the 
"  Not-Me?"  When  a  telescope  is  placed  at  my  eye,  do 
I  see  the  telescopic  star  ?  Yes.  Is  this  visual  percep- 
tion something  more  than  a  contact  of  eye  and  tele- 
scope? Yes.  But  perhaps  the  image  of  the  supposed 
star  was  in  the  telescope  only  ?  I  have  inspected  the 
telescope,  and  seen  that  there  was  no  star  in  it.  But 
perhaps  the  image  of  a  supposed  star  was,  in  the  same 
sense,  in  the  mind  only  ?  I  reply,  No.  How  do  I  know 
it  was  not  ?  The  question  is  a  paradox  ;  it  is  as  though 


214  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

one  should  ask  me,  How  do  I  know  that  I  know  the 
thing  which  I  know  I  know  ?  We  have  gotten  back 
to  the  ultimate  fact,  an  intuition  of  consciousness.  At 
that,  every  system  of  cognitions  must  stop;  to  refuse  to 
stop  there  is  to  refuse  to  be  an  intelligent  being  ;  to  de- 
rationalize  one's  self.  And  now,  does  not  this  ultimate 
issue  which  the  question  has  raised,  prove  that  this 
doctrine  of  the  mere  relativity  of  knowledge  is  virtually 
identical  with  that  of  absolute  scepticism  ?  For  when 
this  species  of  sceptic  is  driven  from  all  his  smaller 
cavils  against  our  knowledge,  he  always  retires  to  this 
question,  as  to  his  final  stronghold  :  "  If  the  certainty 
of  all  deduced  truths  depends  at  last  on  the  validity  of 
the  primitive  judgments  which  are  their  ultimate  pre- 
mises; and  if  these  are  undemonstrated  ;  is  not  all  our 
knowledge  uncertain  ?  "  As  M.  Jouffroy  has  justly  said, 
the  very  terms  of  this  cavil  show  that  it  can  never  re- 
ceive an  answer  from  deductive  demonstration.  Yet, 
it  is  enough  to  add :  Every  such  caviller  knows,  is  in- 
evitably necessitated  to  know,  that  no  answer  at  all  is 
necessary.  He  who  seriously  urges  the  cavil  is  as 
though  one  should  say  :  "  I  am  in  contact  with  this 
tree  ;  and,  therefore,  I  cannot  know  my  distance  from 
it,  because  there  is  no  room  to  introduce  any  foot,  or 
yard-measure,  or  any  other  measure  of  distance,  be- 
tween my  body  and  the  tree."  Every  sane  man  re- 
plies, for  that  very  reason  the  man's  relation  in  space  to 
that  tree  is  known  ;  it  is  contact ;  it  is  all  the  more  cer- 
tain because  there  is  no  room  to  interpose  any  measure. 
Light  is  the  sole  medium  by  which  we  see  objects.  By 
what  other  medium,  then,  shall  we  see  the  light?  There 
is  none.  "  Therefore  light  must  be  invisible  !  "  Such 
is  the  logic  of  scepticism  ;  and  it  refutes  itself  every 
time  the  eye  is  opened.  Were  it  possible  for  any  man 
to  act  consistently  upon  the  sceptical  cavil,  the  sole  re- 
sult would,  obviously,  be  idiocy.  It  results,  then,  that 
we  are  intuitively  certain,  that  while  our  cognitions  are 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  215 

by  means  0/the  relation. of  the  object  and  subject,  they 
are 'something  more  than  that  relation.  All  that  we 
need  be  careful  about  is,  that  we  separate  faithfully  be- 
tween veritable  intuitions  and  correct  deductions  on  the 
one  hand  and  imaginary  intuitions  and  illogical  deduc- 
tions on  the  other.  The  mind  is  possessed  of  logical 
criteria  for  making  that  separation,  if  we  will  use  them 
honestly.  If  our  possession  of  such  criteria  is  denied, 
then  how  has  the  sceptic  or  idealist  ascertained 'the  invalidity 
of  any,  or  all,  of  our  cognitions?  With  that  reductio  ad 
absurdissimum,  I  leave  him. 

The  transition  to  the  other  error  to  be  discussed  may 
be  furnished  by  the  peculiar  terms  in  which  Sir  Win. 
Hamilton  seems  to  delight  in  stating  the  doctrine  of 
our  primitive  judgments.  He  calls  them  <c  incompre- 
hensible." Now,  the  sense  in  which  this  is  true  is: 
that  a  primitive  judgment  cannot  be  comprehended  under 
any  prior  truth,  as  conclusion  under  premise ;  for  the 
simple  reason  that  the  first  is  already  a  first  truth.  But 
the  word  "  incomprehensible  "  has  a  very  different,  and 
more  common  or  popular  meaning  ;  that  of  inconceivable. 
It  is  by  slipping  from  the  one  meaning  to  the  other, 
that  the  false  doctrine  is  reached  that  some  first  intui- 
tions, absolute  ideas  to-wit,  are  incognoscible,  or  "  un- 
thinkable." The  two  propositions  should  be  kept  wholly 
distinct.  A  notion,  or  a  judgment,  is  not  a  whit  more 
incomprehensible  in  the  latter  sense,  because  in  the  for- 
mer sense  it  is  not  comprehended,  or  reduced  under  a 
prior  notion  or  judgment.  Thus  :  The  judgment  that 
the  doubles  of  equals  must  be  equal,  is  just  as  perspicu- 
ous and  definite  as  that  the  sums  of  three  angles  in  all 
triangles  are  equal.  The  one  is  a  primary,  the  other  a 
deduced  geometrical  truth.  Because  our  primitive 
judgments  are  not  reducible  under  any  higher  pre- 
mises; and  because  our  ultimate  abstract  notions  can- 
not be  generalized  under  any  notion  more  general;  they 
are  not,  therefore,  more,  or  less,  inconceivable,  or  cog- 


2  r  6  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

noscible,  than  our  other  cognitions.  This  is  but  one 
slight  instance  of  those  marvelous  jugglings  of  words 
with  which  Hamilton  has  befogged  his  followers,  and 
perhaps  himself,  in  the  "  philosophy  of  the  uncon- 
ditioned." 

"The  unconditioned"  he  defines  as  the  larger  cate- 
gory, including  both  "  the  infinite  or  the  uncondition- 
ally unlimited"  and  "the  absolute  or  the  un condition- 
ally limited."  But  what  is  it  to  be  "  unconditional  "  (in 
either  of  those  senses)?  He  has  nowhere  told  us: 
but  the  clearest  inference  to  be  dra\vn  from  his  arsfii- 

O 

ment  is,  that  the  unconditional  is  that  which  is  w'holly 
or  utterly  out  of  relation  to  everything.  Hamilton 
then  proposes  to  show  that  it  is  impossible  for  us  really 
^o  think  "the  infinite"  or  "the  absolute,"  because  the 
mind,  in  order  to  conceive  them,  would  have  to  "  think 
away  from"  the  only  conditions  under  which  cognition 
is  possible.  Because  these  ideas  can  neither  of  them  be 
positively  represented,  or  realized,  or  construed  to  the 
mind ;  and  here  understanding  and  imagination  would 
have  to  coincide  :  because  such  a  spurious  conception 
of  either  u  the  infinite"  or  "the  absolute  "  as  the  mind 
might  impose  on  itself,  would  be  only  a  "fasiculus  of 
negations,"  containing,  in  fact,  no  affirmative  cognition: 
That  we  cannot  think  the  unconditioned,  because  to 
think  it  would  be  to  condition  it ;  and  this  :  because  the 
separation  of  the  "  Not-Me  "  from  the  "  Me,"  and  the 
bringing  of  subject  and  object  into  the  relation  of 
thought,  is,  of  course,  the  imperious  condition  of  all 
thought.  This  is  the  amount  of  the  argument,  when 
stripped  of  repetitions,  and  separated  from  the  objec- 
tions to  M.  Cousin's  semi-pantheistic  doctrine  of  the 
impersonality  of  reason,  which  we  have  no  interest  to 
defend.  A  little  perspicuous  thought  will  convince  us 
that  this  whole  argument  consists  of  two  elements 
only  :  the  assertion  of  a  truism,  and  of  an  error.  The 
truism  is,  that  the  mind  cannot  think  as  a  truth  a  cer- 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  217 

tain  self-contradictory  abstraction,  termed  "  the  uncon- 
ditioned :"  and  this  truism  is  then  confused  with  the 
very  different  proposition  erroneously  asserted  along 
with  it,  viz.  :  that  the  mind  cannot  think  an  infinite 
Being.  The  error  is,  that  no  cognition  is  valid  which  is 
not  comprehended,  or,  in  other  words,  represented  or 
pictured  in  the  imagination.  And  the  practical  root  of 
the  whole  confusion  is  in  the  assertion  that  "  here  un- 
derstanding and  imagination  coincide." 

Let  me,  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  clear  understanding 
of  this  matter,  recall  one  or  two  doctrines  of  mental 
science,  which  are,  in  fact,  only  correct  interpretations 
of  ev-ery  man's  consciousness.  That  I  may  do  this  in 
the  plainest  way,  let  me  define  for  myself  a  few  terms. 
It  shall  be  understood  that  we  now  use  the  term,  "cog- 
nition," as  the  most  comprehensive  one,  including  all 
the  contents  of  our  intelligence  of  ever.y  species.  We 
will  use  "  idea  "  as  including  all  our  percepts  or  con- 
cepts of  body  and  its  attributes,  so  that  we  can  consist- 
ently speak  of  our  idea  of  a  body,  its  size,  its  figure,  its 
weight,  its  colour.  The  word  "  notion  "  we  will  reserve 
for  that  peculiar  species  of  cognitions  which  represent 
neither  bodies  nor  their  attributes,  but  which  are  the 
rational  conditions  attending  our  ideas.  I  must  fore- 
warn you  that  the  popular  depreciation  attending  the 
sound  of  the  word  must  be  shaken  off;  we  must  not 
conceive  of  a  "  notion  "  as  something  capricious  and 
unfounded.  The  word  is,  indeed,  but  a  shortened  form 
of  the  original  root  (in  ymScww)  which  appears  in  "  cogni- 
tion," and  would  etymologically  mean  the  same,  leaving 
out  the  side  reference  to  consciousness  involved  in  the 
longer  word.  We  will  treat  it,  then,  with  equal  respect, 
while  technically  limiting  it  to  express  our  peculiar 
cognitions  of  spirit,  space,  duration,  and  relations. 

I  claim,  then,  (and  the  justice  of  the  claim  is  suffi- 
ciently evinced  by  its  consistency  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  us  all)  that  our  specific  ideas  and  judgments  are 


218  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

conditioned  upon  the  mind's  a  priori  rational  power  of 
forming  certain  abstract  notions.  These  are,  and  must 
be,  distinguished  from  all  our  percepts  and  consequent 
concepts  of  objective  things,  in  that  they  are  not  figur- 
able.  We  do  not,  we  need  not,  and  we  cannot,  construe 
them  in  conception  or  in  imagination  by  any  idea  of 
figure  or  extension.  That  we  are  not  to  expect  to  do 
so,  appears  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  senses  which  show 
us  all  attributes  of  extension  ;  and  these  abstract  notions 
being  in  order  to  perception,  cannot  receive  their  form 
from  perception.  Thus,  we  can  only  cognize  body  in 
space.  We  can  only  cognize  an  event  as  in  duration. 
We  can  only  think  an  effect  as  from  the  poiver  .of  its 
cause.  We  can  only  recognize  moral  responsibility  in 
spontaneity.  We  can  only  recognize  phenomena  in  sub- 
ject. We  can  only  think  qualities  as  in  their  substance. 
We  can  only  have  a  reflective  judgment  by  the  mind 
on  condition  of  conscious  self -identity.  We  can  only 
construe  the  finite  in  relation  to  an  infinite.  We  can 
only  think  the  universe  the  sum  of  known  effects  in 
their  First  Cause.  Each  of  these  notions  will  be  found 
as  ultimate  in  simplicity  as  it  is  a  priori.  You  can  refer 
none  of  them  to  a  simpler  or  more  ultimate  type.  No 
One  of  them  is  given  by  sense-perception.  Thus,  when 
you  look  at  a  distant  building,  and  your  mind  posits  it 
in  space,  your  eyes  do  not  see  space.  Space,  as  abstracted 
from  the  building  in  it,  is  empty,  invisible.  When  you 
hear  a  succession  of  thunder-claps,  your  ear  does  not 
hear  duration,  but  your  mind  posits  the  noises  in  succes- 
sive time.  Whence,  then,  your  notions  of  space  and 
time  ?  Not  from  the  senses,  but  the  reason.  The  most 
important  thing  to  be  noticed  for  our  present  purpose, 
however,  is,  that  these  notions  and  ideas  are  all  un- 
figured  and  incapable  of  figuration,  and  that  for  the 
reason  that  they  are  a  priori  in  their  source  to  all  our 
perceptions  of  the  figured.  • 

Again:  there  is  in  each  of  these  a  priori  cognitions  a 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  219 

certain  incompleteness  or  inadequacy.  Questions  can 
be  asked  about  them  which  the  mind  that  entertains 
them  can  by  no  means  answer.  There  is  a  limitation, 
sometimes  a  very  narrow  limitation  ;  and  yet  the  notion, 
within  that  limit,  is  perfectly  valid,  and  of  essential 
value. 

Let  us  now  notice  the  important  fact,  that  these  two 
restrictions  are  by  no  means  peculiar  to  our  notions  of 
the  infinite  and  absolute.  The  notion  of  space  or  time 
finite  is  just  as  unfigurable  as  of  space  or  time  infinite  ! 
To  inspect  your  own  consciousness  is  all  that  is  requi- 
site to  convince  you  of  this.  Do  you  think  that  you 
can  figure  the  empty  space  occupied  by  a  balloon  of 
thirty  feet  diameter,  after  the  balloon  is  abstracted  ? 
You  deceive  yourself;  you  have  retained  the  superficies 
of  the  balloon  in  your  conception.  You  can  no  more 
have  a  complete  conception  of  the  one  than  of  the 
other.  But  is  finite  space  or  time  therefore  "  unthink- 
able ?"  No  one  dreams  of  such  an  assertion.  This 
obvious  fact  discloses  the  illusion  under  which  Hamil- 
ton spoke,  when  he  claimed  that,  in  this  matter,  the 
power  to  understand  and  the  power  to  imagine  were 
coincident,  and  when  he  asserts  it  is  a  contradiction  to 
say  that  the  infinite  can  be  thought,  but  only  inade- 
quately thought.  He  has  here  made  two  confusions 
worthy  of  a  sensua'.istic  thinker  alone,  and,  in  fact, 
coming  from  a  sensualistic  source.  He  has  fallen  into 
them  because  his  attention  was,  like  the  sensualist's,  for 
the  time,  preoccupied  by  the  type  of  our  sense-percep- 
tions, which  form  so  large  and  so  obtrusive  a  portion 
of  our  ideas.  If  completeness  of  conception  and  this 
quality  of  figuration  are  tests  of  valid  abstract  notions, 
then  we  have  none,  finite  or  infinite.  Hamilton  would 
say,  that  a  finite  mind  has  no  real  conception  of  another 
mind's  absolute  knowledge,  because,  of  course,  he  can- 
not have  an  adequate  conception  of  it.  His  supposed 
conception  of  it  is  a  mere  illusion,  a  mere  "fasciculus 


22O  Sensnalistic  Philosophy. 

of  negations,"  because  it  is  a  contradiction  to  speak  of 
the  finite  as  comprehending  the  infinite  ;  if  it  did,  it 
would  itself  be  infinite.  Of  course,  a  complete  compre- 
hension of  the  infinite  would  require  an  infinite  power 
of  thought.  But  to  the  other  point,  that  unless  the 
conception  be  adequate  or  complete,  it  is  invalid  ;  I  reply 
by  the  very  simple  question  :  Is  my  conception  of  another 
mans  finite  knoivledge  complete  ?  Obviously  not.  Says 
J.  S.  Mill  :  UI  have  no  adequate  conception  of  a  shoe- 
maker's knowledge,  since  I  do  not  know  how  to  make 
shoes  ;  but  my  conception  of  a  shoemaker  and  his 
knowledge  is  a  real  conception."  I  repeat,  that  Hamil- 
ton's notion  of  finite  space,  finite  duration,  finite  cause, 
substance,  spirit,  is  just  as  unfigurable,  in  this  sense  just 
as  unimaginable,  as  of  infinite  space,  time,  or  spirit. 
These  objections,  then,  against  the  reality  of  our 
notions  of  the  infinite  and  absolute  are  entirely  invalid. 
To  be  urged  consistently,  they  must  be  urged  by 
Hamilton  against  all  our  abstract  thought.  And  his 
mistake  overlooks  the  common  trait  which  must  belong 
to  all  these  notions,  however  valid,  by  reason  of  their 
priority  of  order  to  sense-perception. 

The  omission  of  this  view  by  Hamilton  is  only  worthy 
of  a  Sensualist.  For  the  latter,  it  is  very  consistent  to 
object,  that  this  view  represents  us  as  knowing  the 
definite  only  by  the  vague,  the  extended  and  figured 
only  by  the  abstract  and  unfigured.  For  the  Sensualist, 
it  is  consistent  to  cavil,  that  the  progeny  cannot  be  any 
more  accurately  defined  than  the  parent-notions.  His 
one-sided  philosophy  makes  sense-perception  the  sole 
source  of  cognition.  But,  to  the  rational  psychologist, 
the  view  I  have  propounded  is  perfectly  consistent. 
For,  first,  he  does  not  hold  that  sense  is  the  sole  source 
of  cognition  ;  he  knows  that  the  reason  is  possessed  of 
its  own  cognitive  powers.  And  that  the  abstract  notion 
should  thus  be  in  order  to  the  idea  of  the  concrete,  the 
unfigurable  &  priori  to  the  figured  concept,  is  precisely 


Validity  of  A-Priori  Notions.  221 

what  we  should  expect.  This  result  of  the  inspection 
of  our  consciousness  is  itself  a  demonstration  against 
Sensualism.  This  trait  of  the  a  priori  notion  which 
mediates  the  sense- perception  is 'no  weakness.  The 
r6  on  is  positively  known  ;  it  is  only  the  rb  ncjg  that  is 
obscure.  That  pictorial  feature  is  lacking  which  makes 
the  images  we  combine  or  revive  out  of  our  sense-per- 
ceptions, apparently  so  vivid  and  palpable  :  only  the 
latter  can  be  figured  in  the  mind ;  the  former  are  known. 
And,  second,  that  these  notions  are  incomplete  or  in- 
adequate, is  just  the  inevitable  result  which  must  fol- 
low, from  the  fact  that  our  minds  are  finite.  Shall  we 
petulantly  disclaim  positive  knowledge,  and  stigmatize 
it  as  an  illusion,  a  negation  of  thought,  because  it  is 
partial  knowledge  ;  when  the  limitation  of  our  nature 
reminds  us  that  partial  knowledge  is  the  only  kind  we 
can  expect  to  have  ;  and  when  we  find  our  thought 
alike  partial,  whether  its  object  be  finite  or  infinite  ? 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  one  of  those  "  lucid  inter- 
vals "  which  are  so  characteristic  of  his  philosophy,  and 
in  which  he  so  effectually  explodes  his  own  inconsist- 
encies, has  given  the  distinction  between  the  compre- 
hensible and  the  knowable,  in  terms  which  I  have  no 
desire  to  strengthen. 

"  To  make  the  comprehensibility  of  a  datum  of  con- 
sciousness the  criterion  of  its  truth,  would  be,  indeed, 
the  climax  of  absurdity.  For  the  primary  data  of  con- 
sciousness, as  themselves  the  conditions  under  which 
all  else  is  comprehended,  are  necessarily  themselves  in- 
comprehensible. We  know,  and  can  know,  only  that 
they  are,  not  how  they  can  be.  To  ask  how  an  imme- 
diate fact  of  consciousness  is  possible,  is  to  suppose  that 
we  have  another  consciousness,  before  and  above  that 
human  consciousness,  concerning  whose  mode  of  opera- 
tion we  inquire.  Could  we  do  this,  verily  we  should 
be  as  Gods." 

If  we  separate  the  ambiguity  from  the  word  incom- 


222  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

prehensible,  which  I  have  elsewhere  explained,  this  is 
very  correct.  But  it  proves  that  the  primitive  notions 
are  not  the  work  of  the  imagination,  but  of  the  reason  : 
the)*  are  not  figured9,  but  known. 

In  approaching  nearer  to  the  question  :  Have  we  any 
valid  cognition  of  the  unconditioned  ?  I  must  believe, 
with  J.  S.  Mill,  in  his  examination  of  the  philosophy  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  that  the  whole  difficulty  is  in 
the  vagueness  of  the  notion  expressed  by  the  word 
"unconditioned."  If  it  means  the  absolutely  unrelated, 
then,  of  course,  "the  unconditioned"  is  incognoscible  : 
for  the  essential  condition  of  cognition  is  that  the  object 
and  subject  of  thought  shall  come  into  some  relation. 
If  "the  unconditioned"  is  the  absolute  totality  of  being, 
identified  in  one  subjectum,  then,  of  course,  it  is  incog- 
noscible by  a  finite  power  of  thought.  If  the  uncondi- 
tioned is  the  absolute  sum  of  all  properties  unified  into 
one,  including  all  contradictory  properties,  fortunately 
it  is  "  unthinkable,"  and  still  more  fortunately,  impossi- 
ble. But  if  these  are  the  conclusions  Sir  William  Ham- 
ilton has  proved,  then  neither  philosophy  nor  natural 
theology  have  been  retrenched  a  single  inch  ;  for,  for- 
tunately, neither  of  them  has  a  particle  of  use  for  these 
notions.  An  infinite  eternal  Spirit  impossible  to  be  in 
relation  to  any  other  being,  the  pantheist's  imaginary 
God,  identifying  Creator  and  creature,  matter  and  spirit, 
cause  and  effect,  finite  and  infinite,  in  one  contradictory 
substance  ;  the  unimaginable  monster  at  once  infinitely 
good  and  bad,  wise  and  foolish,  blessed  and  wretched, 
great  and  little ;  these  we  surrender  to  Hamilton's  an- 
nihilating sword  with  cheerful  equanimity.  But  let  us 
drop  this  treacherous  abstract.  Let  us  speak  of  some- 
thing infinite  or  something  absolute.  Let  the  question 
be  :  Have  we  any  valid  notion  of  infinite  duration,  in- 
finite space,  and  infinite  Spirit?  Spirit  not  inclusive  of 
all  possible  and  actual  being,  but  Spirit  eternal  in  its 
own  separate  duration  and  infinite  in  its  perfections. 
To  all  these  questions  I  confidently  answer,  yes. 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  223 

The  finite  mind  would  need  to  become  infinite,  in 
order  to  contain  a  complete  and  exhaustive  conception 
of  any  infinite  being-.  But  we  do  not  claim  such  a  con- 
ception. The  finite  mind  may  remain  finite,  and  yet 
contain  an  incomplete,  yet  valid,  apprehension  of  in- 
finite being.  The  dew-drop  is  but  a  tiny  sphere,  yet  it 
can  reflect  in  miniature  the  glories  of  the  celestial 
sphere  above  it.  That  the  finite  mind  thus  thinks  the 
infinite,  is  what  we  hold. 

And,  first :  does  it  not  seem  odd  that  we  should  have 
a  name  for  a  notion  absolutely  incognoscible  ;  that  we 
should  define  it ;  that  we  should  argue,  pro  and  con, 
about  it?  Does  Sir  William  Hamilton  define  what 
cannot  be  thought  ?  The  evasion  which  he  suggests 
from  this  ridiculous  attitude  is,  that  he  defines  it  only 
by  negatives,  and  therefore  the  seeming  cognition  is 
only  a  negation  of  thought.  But  many  a  definition 
which  is  negative  in  verbal  form,  is  yet  positive  in  sig- 
nifigance ;  and  when,  for  Hamilton's  shadowy,  abstract 
unconditioned,  we  put  an  infinite  something,  infinite 
Spirit,  our  definition  becomes  clearly  of  this  kind.  In- 
finite (wtffmite)  Spirit,  is  Spirit  existing  beyond  all  limits 
of  space  or  duration  whatsoever.  The  only  negative 
notion  is  the  negation  of  limit ;  the  Substance  existing 
beyond  all  limits  is  positive,  inexpressibly  positive  ;  all 
the  more  positive  because  of  this  absolute  removal  of 
limitation.  Here  we  see  that  Hamilton  was  entirely 
unwarranted  in  saying  that  the  notion  of  an  infinite 
thing  is  a  mere  "fasciculus  of  negations."  He  charges 
upon  us,  that  we  impose  upon  ourselves,  as  a  valid 
notion,  what  is  only  a  negation  of  thought.  But  it 
turns  out  that  it  is  he  who  has  imposed  on  himself  by  a 
phrase  negative  in  form.  I  repeat :  Let  the  question 
be  of  something  infinite  ;  then  that  being  is  positive,  and 
the  only  negation  attending  the  notion  is  the  negation 
of  limits  ;  a  negation  which  leaves  the  thing  the  most 
positive  of  all  positives.  In  this  connection,  we  may 


224  Sefisualistic  Philosophy. 

refer  to  the  fact,  that  even  in  the  most  exact  of  sciences, 
mathematics,  the  infinitely  great  and  the  infinitely  little 
frequently  enter  as  elements  of  equations ;  and  that  these 
strict  reasonings  lead  to  certain  results  well  attested  by 
logic  and  experience.  Is  it  not  strange,  again,  that 
notions  wholly  "unthinkable"  should  be  so  successfully 
thought  as  to  lead  us  to  some  of  the  most  re.condite 
laws  of  nature?  We  are  reminded,  here,  of  the  caustic, 
but  just,  sarcasm  of  J.  S.  Mill,  that  if  Hamilton  is  right, 
one  must  "suppose  that  conjuring  is  a  highly  success- 
ful mode  of  the  investigation  of  nature  !  " 

Hamilton,  in  arguing  that  our  cognition  of  the  infinite 
is  illusory, .proceeds,  in  one  place,  precisely  like  Condil- 
lac,  or  any  other  Sensualist.  He  represents  our  minds 
as  attempting  to  cognize  the  notion  in  thought  "only 
by  an  endless  synthesis  of  finite  wholes."  He  says  that 
the  realization  of  the  idea  by  this  process  is  obviously 
impossible,  because  an  infinite  time  would  be  required 
for  the  mind  to  pass  successively  through  the  additions. 
So,  argues  he,  should  we  attempt  to  think  the  absolutely 
indivisible,  our  minds  would  have  to  expend  an  eternity 
in  representing  to  themselves  the  successive  divisions 
of  the  finite.  All  this  is  perfectly  worthy  of  Condillac 
or  of  Hobbes.  Were  our  notion  of  infinitude  or  of  the 
absolute  an  empirical  idea  or  a  deduction,  this  logic 
would  be  very  appropriate  ;  but  against  the  existence 
of  such  an  h  priori  notion,  given  intuitively  in  the  mind, 
it  is  irrelevant.  We  do  not  attain  to  the  notion  of  in- 
finitude by  this  additive  process.  This  is  not  a  correct 
analysis  of  our  consciousness.  The  proof  is,  that  when  we 
have,  by  such  an  additive  process,  reached  the  conception 
of  the  indefinite,  the  conception  which  mathematicians 
sometimes  describe  as  "  larger  than  any  assignable 
quantity,"  this  still  stands  in  the  very  same  antithesis 
in  our  minds  to  the  infinite,  which  we  perceive  between 
the  infinite  and  any  definite  quantity.  Let  us,  for  in- 
stance, ask  ourselves :  what  is  the  difference  between 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  225 

our  notion  of  an  empty  sphere,  ten  thousand  miles  in 
diameter,  and  infinite  space  ?  Let  us  now  increase  the 
diameter  of  our  sphere,  by  the  addition  of  myriads  of 
'miles  to  myriads  of  miles,  until  the  imagination  is 
fatigued,  and  again  ask  ourselves  what  is  the  difference 
between  our  notion  of  this  larger  empty  sphere  and  of 
infinite  space  ?.  The  very  same  as  before  !  the  difference 
between  space  bounded  and  space  absolutely  freed  from 
limit.  The  true  statement  of  what  passes  in  our  con- 
sciousness is  this:  The  concept  of  extension  finite,  and 
the  notion  of  space  infinite,  are  related  by  necessary 
contrast  :  the  thinking  of  the  one  imp'ies  the  thinking 
of  the  other.  Hamilton  has  himself  stated  this,  when  he 
says  that  the  idea  of  any  space,  however  vast,  is  neces- 
sarily attended  by  that  of  space  still  outside  the 
former.  So,  I  add,  the  idea  of  any  length  of  time, 
however  vast,  is  inevitably  attended  by  the  notion  of 
other  time  before  and  after  the  termini  of  the  former. 
There,  at  once,  is  the  notion  of  the  infinite  inevitably 
cognized,  though  never  comprehended  (in  the  sense  of 
being  embraced  or  included  in  the  imagination).  As  in 
a  picture,  light  implies  shade  ;  so,  in  our  consciousness, 
the  thought  of  the  finite,  when  we  carefully  examine 
its  conditions,  implies  that  of  the  infinite  ;  and  that  of 
the  dependent  implies  that  of  the  absolute.  When 
looking  at  the  picture,  we  often  forget  to  notice  the 
shaded  parts,  because  the  lights  are  what  interest  our 
attention.  But  as  soon  as  we  proceed  to  analyze  the 
picture  faithfully,  we  see,  at  a  glance,  that  the  lights 
can  only  be  by  means  of  the  shades.  So,  when  we 
glance  carelessly  at  our  own  consciousness,  the  percepts 
derived  from  sensation  strike  us,  and  engross  our  atten 
tion  by  their  clear  outline  and  distinct  light.  But  when 
we  analyze  more  faithfully,  we  soon  discover  that  the 
unfigured  notions  of  the  reason  are  the  necessary  back- 
ground of  our  percepts. 

Says  Sir  Wm.   Hamilton,  the  unconditioned  cannot 


226  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

be  cognized,  because  we  only  know  anything1  by  dis- 
tinction, by  difference,  by  plurality.  Absolute  identifi- 
cation of  the  "  Me  "  and  the  "  Not-Me,"  or  of  the  past 
and  the  present  cognition  in  consciousness,  would  ab- 
solutely extinguish  cognition.  Very  true:  and  this  is 
a  very  perfect  refutation  of  that  form  of  pantheism 
which  is  reached  by  the  absolute  idealism  of  Hegel.  I 
thank  Sir  Wm.  Hamilton  for  it.  It  may  also  be  a  very 
sufficient  refutation  of  Cousin's  semi-pantheistic  scheme 
of  the  impersonality  of  the  reason.  I  have  no  vocation 
to  defend  that  error.  But  this  argument  has  no  appli- 
cation whatever  to  disprove  my  ability  to  think  infinite 
time,  infinite  space,  an  infinite  God,  Absolute  First 
Cause.  I  am  not  guilty  of  the  profanity  of  identifying 
myself  and  God.  I  am  a  distinct  being,  a  poor,  puny 
creature.  He  is  another  distinct  Being,  great,  personal 
Creator.  There  are  two  !  There  is  difference,  plural- 
ity ;  which,  as  Hamilton  shows,  is  the  condition  of  cog- 
nition. Surely  Hamilton  would  not  be  understood  as 
having  fallen  into  the  shallow  sophism,  that  because 
difference  is  necessary  to  cognition,  therefore  plurality 
in  the  object  is  necessary  to  it.  That  folly  is  refuted  by 
every  cognition  of  units  which  takes  place  in  our 
minds.  I  repeat,  this  majestically  shadowy  argument 
is  but  a  majestic  illusion,  unless  God  and  the  creature, 
God  and  space,  God  and  time,  God  and  all  His  oppo- 
sites  are  identified  in  a  To  nav.  That  monstrous  notion, 
fortunately,  is  not  only  "  unthinkable,"  but  impossible 
to  be  true.  So,  when  Hamilton  asserts  that  the  notion 
of  "  absolute  cause  "  is  "  unthinkable,"  because  cause 
must  be  in  relation  to  effect ;  but  the  Absolute  is  that 
which  is  completely  unrelated, — I  reply  :  against  the 
vain  dream  of  the  Epicurean  God,  this  may  be  very 
conclusive  ;  and  we  wish  him  joy  in  the  work  of  its 
demolition.  But  what  natural  theology  means  by  ab- 
solute Cause  is,  first,  a  cause  that  never  was  in  its  turn 
an  effect ;  an  independent  Cause  ;  and  second,  a  Cause 


Validity  of  A-Priori  Notions.  227 

in  actual  relation  to  all  dependent  effects.  Of  course, 
the  notion  of  a  Cause  impossible  to  be  in  relation  to 
any  effects,  is  a  perfect  contradiction  ;  and  it  is  also  the 
perfect  opposite  of  our  notion  of  our  divine  absolute 
Cause  ;  for  He  is  not  only  a  Cause  able  to  be  related, 
but  actually  related  to  all  effects. 

The  Hamiltonian  is  accustomed  to  sum  up  his  dem- 
onstration in  the  enthymeme:  No  one  can  think  the 
unconditioned,  because  to  think  it  is  to  condition  it. 
Verbally,  this  statement  has  a  formal  correctness  ;  but 
logically  it  is  a  mere  play  upon  the  ambiguities  of  the 
vague  word  "  conditioned."  What  is  it  "  to  condition  " 
a  notion  in  thought  ?  Ts  it  to  place  the  notion  within 
the  necessary  conditions  of  human  thought?  Then,  of 
course,  the  statement  is  true,  and  a  mere  truism  ;  it 
only  means  that  in  order  for  man  to  think  something, 
the  something  must  be  in  the  forms  of  man's  thinking. 
This  is  no  more  than  to  say  that,  if  a  man  is  to  see,  he 
must  see  with  his  eyes.  Or  does  the  famous  statement 
mean  that  we  think  nothing,  save  as  we  include  and 
circumscribe  it  within  a  concept  of  our  imagination  ? 
Then  it  is  positively  false.  For  I  have  shown  that  no 
one  of  the  abstract  notions  of  the  reason  is,  or  can  be, 
thought  in  this  way  ;  yet  we  unquestionably  do  and 
must  think  them.  I  reminded  the  student  that  we  no 
more  think  empty  space  finite  by  circumscribing  it 
within  a  figured  concept  of  the  imagination,  than  we 
do  infinite  space.  We  no  more  think  power  in  cause, 
or  relation,  or  identity,  or  spirit,  in  this  way,  than  we 
do  infinite  space.  Let  us  eliminate  the  ambiguity,  and 
state  the  argument  thus  :  "  One  cannot  think  an  infinite 
something,  because  to  think  it  is  to  limit  it ;  "  and  we 
then  see  that  it  is  a  mere  begging  of  the  question.  Do 
we  limit  it,  in  the  sense  of  circumscribing  it  by  a  figure  ? 
No.  We  think  that  it  is,  without  figuring  what  it  is.  The 
enthymeme  is  just  as  good  to  prove  the  falsehood,  that 
I  cannot  think  self-identity,  because  to  think  is  to  limit 


228  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

(i.  e.  figure)  it.  But  I  do  think  self-identity ;  I  am 
obliged  to  think  it,  virtually,  every  time  I  think  reflec- 
tively at  all.  The  sum  of  the  matter,  then,  is:  that  I 
can  and  do  think  the  infinite,  because  I  can  think  it 
without  limiting  it ;  although  I  cannot  comprehend  it 
without  limiting  it. 

These  unnecessary  and  vague  speculations  of  the 
Hamiltonians  are  attended  with  two  baleful  effects. 
One  is,  that  they  represent  our  knowledge  as  the  result, 
not  of  competency,  but  of  impotency  of  the  mind  ;  not 
of  faculty,  but  of  inability.  The  necessary  and  funda- 
mental notions  of  the  reason,  according  to  this  view, 
are  adopted  only  because  the  mind  is  unable  to  avoid 
both  of  two  antithetic  absurdities.  The  rudiments  of 
all  our  knowledge  are  grounded  in  primitive  notions, 
to  which  the  mind  seems  to  be  impelled  simply  upon 
the  principle  that  one  absurdity  is  not  so  bad  as  two: 
these  being  the  alternatives  between  which  the  reason 
moves.  Hamilton,  on  Cousin,  p.  22.  The  mind  ...  is 
"  unable  to  understand  as  possible,  either  of  two  ex- 
tremes ;  one  of  which,  however,  on  the  ground  of  their 
mutual  repugnance,  it  is  compelled  to  recognize  as 
true."  Is  not  this  but  saying  that  the  condition  of  our 
knowledge  is,  that  we  shall  believe  something  which 
we  see  is  impossible  to  be  true,  in  order  to  avoid  be- 
lieving two  impossible  things  which  are,  moreover, 
contradictions?  What  more  practical  encouragement 
could  be  given  to  universal  scepticism  ?  The  other 
deplorable  result  of  this  philosophy,  so-called,  is,  that 
it  makes  a  saving  knowledge  of  God  impossible.  If 
we  cannot  think  the  unconditioned,  and  God  is  uncon- 
ditioned, then  how  can  we  know  God  ?  This  root  of 
death,  we  shall  now  see  Hamilton's  admirer,  Prof. 
Mansel,  watering;  and  the  practical  atheist,  Herbert 
Spencer,  rearing  to  its  fell  maturity. 

Mr.  Mansel,  in  his  "  Limits  of  Religious  Thought," 
aims   to   lay   the    basis   of    a    philosophical    refutation 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  229 

against  the  Rationalists.  When  they  object  against 
Revelation,  u  This  or  that  doctrine  cannot  be  revealed, 
because  it  is  inconsistent  with  God's  character ;"  Mr. 
Mansei  aims  to  meet  the  cavil  by  saying  that  God's 
nature  is  not  cognoscible ;  and,  therefore,  we  are  not 
competent  to  judge  what  is,  or  is  not,  compatible  there- 
with. There  is,  of  course,  a  large  scope,  within  which 
the  reverent  mind  holds  this  humble  view;  but  he,  in 
aiming  to  avoid  Scylla,  has  run  into  Charybdis.  The 
method  of  his  argument  is  purely  Hamiltonian,  but  the 
greater  perspicuity  of  Mansel's  mind  and  style,  and  the 
honest  boldness  of  his  temper,  have  caused  him.  to  un- 
mask and  assert  pernicious  consequences  from  his  mas- 
ter's "  philosophy  of  the  unconditioned,"  from  which 
he  would  probably  have  recoiled.  His  definition  of 
the  infinite  is  the  same  with  Hamilton's.  He  defines 
the  absolute,  first,  as  that  which  is  independent  of  all 
relation.  But  for  this  definition,  which  is  correct,  in  a 
correct  sense,  he  tacitly  introduces  a  wholly  different 
one,  just  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  reason.  "  The  Abso- 
lute "  which  he  proves  incognoscible,  is  an  imaginary 
something  impossible  to  be  related  in  any  way  to  any- 
thing. Now,  of  course,  since  all  knowledge  is  by  a  re- 
lation, there  can  be  no  knowledge  of  that  which  is 
impossible  to  be  related.  But  that  something  is  not 
our  God,  the  God  of  the  Bible.  He  does  not  need  to  be 
related  to  other  being  in  order  to  His  existence.  True  : 
He  existed  alone,  uncaused  by  cause  outside  of  Himself, 
independent,  and  sufficient  .unto  Himself,  countless  ages 
of  His  eternity.  But  He  is  capable  of  entering  into  re- 
lation to  other  beings.  He  has  done  so  by  becoming 
our  Creator,  Ruler,  Benefactor,  Revealer;  and  in  doing 
so  He  has  become  cognoscible  to  us  ;  not  completely,  yet 
truly  cognoscible  within  certain  useful  limits.  How 
simple  and  obvious  is  this  statement !  It  is  surprising 
that  such  a  statement,  intelligible  to  the  Christian 
child,  undisputed  by  all  plain  Christians,  and  indisput- 


230  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

able  by  Mr.  Mansel,  should  yet  explode  his  whole  argu- 
ment. Yet  this  it  does.  The  whole  is  but  this  one 
ignoratio  elcnchi ;  substituting,  in  his  argument,  the  in- 
ference that  a  something  which  is  impossible  to  be  re- 
lated to  any  other  being  must,  therefore,  be  incognos- 
cible  ;  and  then  inferring  the  wholly  different  statement 
that  a  Being  not  dependent  on  relation  must  be  incog- 
noscible. 

This  easy  solution  of  his  sophism  explains  all  the  sev- 
eral instances  of  his  argument.  "  The  absolute,"  he  says, 
"  cannot  be  conceived  as  Cause :  for  causation  is  a  rela- 
tion." Very  true  :  The  impossible  to  be  related  cannot. 
But  if  God,  who  is  by  nature  independent  of  relation, 
and  yet,  because  Infinite,  capable  of  assuming  any  rela- 
tion to  which  His  infinite  wisdom,  goodness,  and  holiness 
may  prompt  Him,  sees  fit  to  enter  into  relation  with 
creatures,  He  thereby  becomes  known  :  known  through 
those  very  relations,  and  truly  known  to  us,  to  that 
partial  extent  compatible  with  our  finitude.  "  The 
Absolute,"  says  Mr.  Mansel,  "must  be  the  sum  of  all 
being,  and  must  possess  in  an  infinite  degree  all  possible 
attributes,  even  those  which  are  contradictory."  Hence, 
as  we  cannot  refer  contradictories  to  the  same  subject, 
we  cannot  think  the  Absolute.  We  are  very  happy  to 
believe  that  such  an  absolute  as  this  is  "  unthinkable." 
But  we  are  equally  certain  that  it  exists  nowhere,  save 
in  the  diseased  fancies  of  pantheists,  and  is  utterly  un- 
like the  God  whom  we  are  commanded  to  know  and 
love.  Once  more:  Mr.  Mansel  argues  that  "the  Abso- 
lute" cannot  create  in  time.  For  it  must  be  both  in- 
finite and  immutable.  If  the  created  acquisitions  were 
of  a  nature  to  make  the  Absolute  Cause  any  better  or 
happier,  or  greater  in  any  way,  then,  before  it  created 
them,  it  was  not  absolute.  If  they  make  it  an}-  worse, 
then,  upon  creating  them,  it  ceases  to  be  absolute,  and, 
moreover,  shows  itself  mutable.  The  plain  reader  can- 
not but  be  mystified  by  a  logic  which  seems  to  result 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  231 

in  this  conclusion  :  that  because  God  is  omnipotent,  for 
that  very  reason  He  cannot  do  what  He  pleases  !  His 
power  is  too  perfect  to  be  practically  any  power  at  all! 
But  the  solution  of  the  riddle  is  given  by  a  very  simple 
question :  Suppose  that  in  the  judgment  of  the'infinitely 
wise  God,  non-action  as  to  a  certain  work  had  once  ap- 
peared the  best  thing,  and  that  the  same  infallible  judg- 
ment has  concluded  that  now  a  time  has  come  when 
action  is  the  best  thing?  The  immutable  Being  then 
passes,  at  His  chosen  time,  from  non-action  to  action, 
precisely  because  He  is  immutable.  But  it  is  unneces- 
sary to  multiply  these  instances  of  vicious  reasoning. 
The  clue  which  has  been  given  leads  us  safely  through 
them  all. 

The  worst  results  of  these  speculations  are  seen  in 
their  application  to  our  knowledge  of  God's  moral  per- 
fections. If  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  know  Him  as  He 
is  in  Himself;  if  all  our  knowledge  is  but  relative,  and 
the  finitude  of  the  Self,  the  Ego,  who  is  the  subjective 
pole  of  the  relation,  necessarily  perverts  every  cogni- 
tion of  the  infinite  and  self-existent  Being,  which  we 
have  ;  then  God's  moral  character  must  not  be  supposed 
to  be  what  we  apprehend  it  for.  Mr.  Mansel  supposes 
that  this  conclusion  gives  him  a  great  advantage  against 
all  Rationalists,  when  they  cavil  against  the  contents  of 
Revelation ;  man  is  utterly  incompetent  to  know  what 
proceedings  are,  or  are  not,  consistent  with  the  truth, 
goodness,  justice,  or  purity  of  God.  Instead  of  regard- 
ing these  as  "  communicable  attributes,"  in  the  sense  of 
the  old  divines  ;  instead  of  believing  these  virtues  in 
God  to  be  the  same  virtues  in  kind,  of  which  AVC  see 
feeble  and  imperfect  and  partial  reflections  in  holy  creat- 
ures, but  absolutely  exempted  from  all  the  errors,  de- 
fects, and  limitations,  and  exalted  and  purified  into 
infinite  excellence  ;  Mr.  Mansel  teaches  that  there  is 
only  "  an  analogy  "  between  the  human  and  divine 
virtue.  We  do  not  know  that  the  benevolence  and. 


232  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

equity  of  a  Washington  are  of  the  same  kind,  abating 
their  imperfection  and  limitation,  with  the  infinite 
benevolence  of  our  Heavenly  Father :  we  only  know 
that  God  has  two  infinite  qualities,  called  divine  benev- 
olence and  justice,  which  are  related  to  His  volitions  in 
a  manner  analogous  to  Washington's.  Must  it  not  fol- 
low that  the  virtues  of  the  man  Christ  are  also  of  a 
different  kind  from  that  of  His  Father ;  not  like,  but 
only  analogous?  Then,  Christ  is  practically  no  longer 
"the  image  to  us  of  the  invisible  God  :  "  it  is  no  longer 
true^that  "he  who  hath  seen  the  Son  hath  seen  the 
Father !  "  For,  let  the  student  remember,  that  God 
being,  according  to  Mr.  Mansel,  wholly  incognoscible 
as  He  is  in  Himself,  we  are  forever  in  the  dark  as  to  the 
real  nature  of  this  "analogy"  between  the  known  and 
the  unknown  virtue.  We  know  what  the  human  virtue 
of  a  holy  man  is.  Knowing  this.,  if  we  knew  the  anal- 
ogy between  it  and  the  divine,  we  should  positively 
know  something  of  the  divine  as  it  is  in  itself.  For 
example :  as  soon  as  you  tell  me  that  an  unknown 
quantity,  x,  bears  a  ratio  to  a  known  quantity,  a,  and 
that  ratio  is  also  the  known  number  b,  I  shall  ascertain 
\vhat  x  is.  But  Mr.  Mansel  insists  that  God,  as  He  is 
in  Himself,  is  incognoscible  ;  it  must,  of  course,  be  held, 
then,  that  the  analogy  is  equally  incognoscible  which  is 
supposed  to  subsist  between  the  known  and  the  un- 
known excellence.  Now,  the  result  of  all  this,  a  result 
even  worse  than  Rationalism,  is  that  the  sincere  love 
and  worship  of  God  become  impossible.  Paul  being 
witness,  "the  Unknown  God"  can  be  only  ignorantly 
and  superstitiously  worshipped.  If  I  cannot  know 
what  I  mean,  when  I  call  the  Father  in  heaven  "  merci- 
ful," "benevolent,"  "true,"  "  holy,"  then  I  cannot  sin- 
cerely say  that  I  honor  or  love  Him  as  such.  My 
religion  is  reduced  to  a  species  of  hypocrisy,  or  else  to 
the  mercenary  truckling  of  the  courtier,  cowering  be- 
fore brute  force.  It  is  a  strange  spectacle  which  we 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  233 

here  witness,  of  a  Christian  divine  and  a  teacher  in  a 
great  Christian  university,  following  a  visionary  philos- 
ophy to  conclusions  so  contradictory  to  his  own  Bible. 
In  that  book  we  read  such  precepts  and  facts  as  these  : 
"Acquaint  thyself  with  God,  and  be  at  peace."  "  This 
is  eternal  life  that  they  might  know  thee  the  true  God, 
and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent."  "  No  man 
hath  seen  God  at  any  time,  save  he  to  whom  the  Son 
hath  revealed  him."  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen 
the  Father."  He  is  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person."  "  Be  ye 
perfect,  even  as  your  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect." 
"  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness.'* 
"  Put  on  the  new  man,  which  after  God  is  created 
in  righteousness  and  true  holiness."  <4  We  all,  with 
open  face,  beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  God, 
are  transformed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to 
glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord."  "  He  hath 
made  us  partakers  of  the  divine  nature."  How  vain  is 
it,  unless  we  design  to  flout  the  authority  of  Scripture, 
to  impinge  against  these  express  declarations  !  Here 
we  have  a  sufficient  proof  that  these  philosophical  jug- 
gleries are  all  hollow.  These  great  truths,  that  God  is 
really  (though  not  completely)  known  to  them  that  seek 
Him,  are  the  practical  foundation  of  all  the  holiness  and 
all  the  homage  of  earth  and  heaven.  This  discussion 
presents  us  with  another  feature  still  more  surprising  : 
that  it  is  the  infidel  philosopher,  John  Stuart  Mill,  who 
has  most  effectually  intervened  to  defend  the  honor  of 
God  from  these  aspersions  of  one  of  his  own  professed 
heralds.  One  can  scarcely  refrain  from  expressing  the 
same  sense  of  incongruity  which  is  expressed  by  the 
Apostle  Peter  (2d  Epistle,  2  : 16),  when  he  remembered 
the  providential  agency  employed  to  rebuke  the  mad- 
ness of  the  prophet  of  Pethor. 

But  Mr.  Mansel  would  justify  himself  by  citing  the 
magnificent   exclamation  of  Zophar,  the  Naamathite: 


234  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

*'  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God  ;  canst  thou 
find  out  the  Almighty  unto  perfection  ?  It  is  higher 
than  heaven.  What  canst  thou  know,  deeper  than  hell ; 
what  canst  thou  do?"  He  would  also  add  a  multitude 
of  citations  from  great  divines,  where  they  have  ex- 
pressed the  same  truth,  sometimes  in  terms  just  and 
fair,  and  sometimes  in  terms  of  exaggeration  or  meta- 
phor. I  reply,  that  his  doctrine  is  wholly  another 
thing.  That  no  finite  mind  can  have  adequate  knowl- 
edge of  all  the  glory  of  the  infinite  God,  is  an  admission 
made  by  all  men,  of  every  age,  who  reflect.  But  that 
God,  as  He  is  in  Himself,  is  incognoscible  ;  that  our 
whole  knowledge  of  Him  is  merely  relative  ;  that  none 
of  His  attributes  are  intelligible  enough  to  man  to 
enable  us  reverently  and  honestly  to  estimate  the  glory 
of  the  divine  consistency :  these  are,  surely,  other  doc- 
trines ;  and  equally  sure  is  it,  that  they  would  make 
sincere  religion  impossible,  if  fully  adopted.  There  is 
no  Christian,  simple  or  learned,  whose  reason  does  not 
cordially  bow  to  the  admonition  : 

"Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense." 

The  most  profound  are  most  deeply  convinced  that 
"  His  ways  are  above  our  ways,  and  His  thoughts  above 
our  thoughts,  as  far  as  the  heavens  above  the  earth." 
We  fully  concede  that  in  acting  for  Himself  upon  those 
principles  of  justice,  truth,  and  goodness,  which  He  has 
enjoined  upon  us,  it  is  proper  that  He  should  take  to 
Himself  a  width  of  discretion  unspeakably  and  incom- 
prehensibly beyond  that  which  is  allowed  to  us  feeble 
creatures.  It  is  justified  by  His  'sovereignty,  as  pro- 
prietor of  all,  and  by  that  wisdom  which  weighs  an  in- 
finity of  facts  unseen  by  us.  Hence,  when  I  am  asked 
to  suspend  my  judgment  upon  some  mysterious  anom- 
aly of  His  providence,  because  I  cannot  understand 
enough  of  the  grounds  of  the  divine  action  to  judge 
aright,  I  cheerfully  obey ;  he  would  be  insane  who 


Validity  of  A- Priori  Notions.  235 

did  not.  But  when  I  am  required  to  say  that  in  the 
case  where  the  grounds  of  the  divine  action  are  de- 
clared to  me,  God's  moral  perfections  make  that  same 
principle  of  action  in  Him  excellent  and  glorious, 
which,  in  me,  those  same  perfections  would  condemn 
as  iniquity;  when  I  'see  that  it  is  impossible  that  un- 
known conditions  can  exist  to  change  the  nature  of  the 
act,  then  it  is  inevitable  that  I  must  demur.  For  this 
admission  would,  if  consistently  made,  leave  me  incapa- 
ble of  religion.  If  I  am  not  to  adore  God  for  the  very 
same  qualities  (purged  of  defect,  and  made  absolute  in 
infinitude,)  which  His  word  and  spirit  have  taught  me 
are  praiseworthy  in  man  and  God  alike,  then  I  do  not 
know  how  to  adore  Him  at  all.  If  I  do  not  know  that 
God's  benevolence  is  the  same  kind  of  benevolence 
which  appeared  in  Jesus,  and  which  good  men,  taught 
by  God's  Spirit,  learn  to  imitate  in  becoming  Christ- 
like,  then  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  know  whether  I 
adore  the  divine  benevolence  or  not ;  and  if  I  say  that 
I  adore  it,  I  am  but  using  the  language  of  hypocrisy. 
So,  when  we  pass  from  the  sphere  of  duty  to  that  of 
dogma,  I  am  prepared  to  believe  a  thousand  things 
which  transcend  my  reason  ;  for  a  little  reflection  has 
taught  me  that  not  only  in  theology,  but  in  psychology 
and  physics,  there  is  no  knowledge  which  I  possess 
that  does  not  involve  something  inscrutable  in  its  con- 
nected truths.  But  if  either  a  person  professing  in- 
spiration, or  any  other,  requires  me  to  believe  what 
contradicts  the  very  foundations  of  my  reason  ;  if  after 
all  the  modesty,  the  caution,  the  humility,  possible  to 
be  employed  by  one  who  really  loves  the  truth,  I  see 
clearly  what  the  assertor  means,  and  see  that  it  inevit- 
ably contradicts  and  overthrows  intuitive  principles, 
then  I  can  only  demur.  For,  should  the  admission  of 
this  contradiction  be  consistent,  then,  in  losing  trust  in 
the  very  sources  of  cognition,  as  they  exist  in  man  and 
for  man,  I  should  have  lost  the  very  capacity  for  ra- 


236  Sensuatistic  Philosophy. 

tional  belief;  the  proper  result  would  be  not  faith,  but 
idiocy.  When,  for  instance,  Mr.  Mansel  would  defend 
that  self-contradiction  of  the  Jesuit  theology,  Scientia 
Media  in  God,  by  referring  me  to  the  inconceivable 
greatness  of  His  gift  of  omniscience,  he  is  giving  me, 
not  a  mystery,  but  a  contradiction.  For  the  advocates 
of  this  scientia  media  begin  by  defining  it  as  a  knowl- 
edge existing  only  by  means  of  a  given  condition.  They 
then  proceed  to  deny  the  existence  of  that  condition.  And 
then  they  require  me  to  admit  that  this  impossible 
knowledge  may  exist  in  God,  because  His  mind  is  in- 
finite !  But  my  reason  obstinately  replies,  that  it  can 
never  be  the  result  of  infinite,  that  is,  of  absolutely  per 
feet  knowledge,  to  lead  God  to  adopt  that  which  is  a 
self-contradiction  in  itself.  It  is,  doubtless,  all  the  more 
impossible  for  Him  to  think  it,  than  for  me,  by  reason 
of  the  absolute  perfection  of  His  thought. 

These  speculations  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  eagerly 
seizes  and  adopts  as  his  own.  The  refutation  which 
has  been  given  applies  fully  to  his  statements  also.  It 
only  remains  that  we  shall  notice  his  assertion,  that 
since  a  God  cannot  be  known  as  He  truly  exists  in 
Himself,  all  the  notions  which  we  suppose  we  have 
touching  a  God,  are  a  vicious  anthropomorphism.  We 
can  only  imagine  the  nature  of  God's  thought  and  pur- 
pose according  to  the  nature  of  our  own  minds;  but,  he 
argues,  we  can  never  know  that  there  is  such  a  resem- 
blance ;  and,  therefore,  our  conclusions  must  ever  re- 
main invalid.  Thus,  says  he,  men  vainly  infer  God's 
thought  from  the  contrivances  which  they  imagine  they 
see  in  His  supposed  works.  When  we  adapt  anything 
to  a  designed  end,  we,  of  course,  plan  and  contrive. 
But  when  we  jump  to  the  conclusion  that  God,  there- 
fore, does  the  same,  and  on  that  conclusion  found  a 
natural  theology,  the  whole  structure  is  vicious.  It  is 
all  founded  on  the  arrogant  and  baseless  assumption 
that  our  thought  and  contrivance  are  the  model  of  the 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  237 

mind  of  God.  This  is  as  unwarrantable,  he  asserts,  as 
though  the  watch  (in  the  well-known  illustration  of  Dr. 
Paley),  becoming  somehow -endowed  with  conscious- 
ness, should  conclude  that  the  consciousness  of  its  un- 
known cause  must  consist  of  a  set  of  tickings,  and  of 
motions  of  a  spring  and  cogs,  because  such  only  are  its 
own  functions.  This  simile  betrays  the  sophism  at  once  : 
The  supposition  is  impossible.  If  the  watch  could  have 
a  rational  consciousness,  it  would  not  be  a  material 
machine,  but  a  reasonable  soul ;  and  then  there  would 
be  no  absurdity  whatever  in  its  likening  its  own  ration- 
al consciousness  to  that  of  its  rational  Cause.  When 
complaint  is  made  that  all  our  natural  theology  is  "  an- 
thropomorphic," what  is  this  but  complaining  that  our 
knowledge  is  human  ?  If  I  am  to  have  any  knowledge, 
it  must  be  my  knowledge;  that  is,  the  knowledge  of 
me,  a  man  ;  and  so,  knowledge  according  to  the  forms 
of  the  human  intelligence.  All  knowledge  must  be  in 
this  sense  anthropomorphic,  in  order  to  be  human 
knowledge.  To  complain  of  any  branch  of  our  knowl- 
edge on  this  score  is  to  conclude  that  we  know  nothing. 
This  single  remark  is  enough  to  show  how  captious 
and  unfair  is  the  cavil. 

But  why  should  our  knowledge  of  an  infinite  spiritual 
being  be  suspected  as  untrustworthy  because  it  is  at- 
tained according  to  the  legitimate  forms  of  human 
thought?  It  can  only  be  because  it  is  suspected  that 
the  notions  of  the  divine  object  of  thought  are  trans- 
formed, in  becoming  ours.  But,  now,  let  it  be  sup- 
posed that  this  great  first  Cause  created  our  spirits 
"in  His  likeness,  after  His  image,"'  and  the  ground  of 
suspicion  is  removed.  If  our  reason  is  fashioned  after 
God's,  then  in  thinking  "anthropopathically,"  we  are 
thinking  like  God.  Our  conceptions  of  the  Divine 
Being  will  then  be  only  limited,  and  not  transformed,  in 
passing  into  our  kindred,  but  finite,  minds:  they  remain 
valid  as  far  as  they  reach.  But  it  may  be  said  :  This 


238  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

is  the  very  question,  whether  a  Creator  did  form  our 
spirits  after  the  likeness  of  His  own ;  hence,  the  advo- 
cates of  natural  theology  must  not  assume  it  as  proved. 
Very  true.  But  I  remark,  first,  neither  must  our 
opponents  assume  the  opposite  as  proved  :  They 
must  not  "  beg  the  question,"  any  more  than  we. 
And  I  add,  second :  That  the  principles  of  our  reason 
compel  us  to  hold  that  truth  is  intrinsic  and  immutable. 
If  a  proposition  is  true,  then  it  is  true  everywhere,  and 
*  to  all  grades  of  minds.  When  once  we  are  certain  that 
the  angles  at  the  base  of  an  isosceles  triangle  are  equal, 
then  we  are  obliged  to  believe  that  they  are  equal  in  any 
other  planet,  and  in  all  the  heavens,  as  in  earth ;  true  to 
the  angelic  mind  that  knows  an  isosceles  triangle,  as  to 
the  human  ;  and  as  true  to  the  divine  mind  as  to  the 
creature.  But  if  truth  is  true  to  all  minds,  then  the 
cognition  by  which  truth  is  reached,  must  have  some- 
thing essential  in  common  for  all  minds.  The  first 
necessarily  implies  the  second.  This,  then,  is  the  noble 
prerogative  of  the  Reason,  that  its  very  nature,  as  an 
agent  for  the  apprehension  of  Truth,  establishes  its  kin- 
ship to  all  the  realms  of  mind  in  heaven  and  earth.  In 
the  attainment  of  Truth,  whose  original  dwelling-place 
must  be  in  the  eternal  bosom  of  God,  the  reason  sees 
its  heirship  and  recognizes  itself  as  the  offspring  of  God. 
Do  we,  can  we,  attain  unto  any  assured  truth  ?  Then,  to 
that  extent, we  know  that  we  have  been  fashioned  to  think 
after  the  pattern  of  Eternal  Truth.  It  is  manifest,  then, 
that  the  dogma,  u  God  is  the  absolutely  unknowable," 
leads  us  back  to  the  gulf  of  absolute  scepticism.  If  we 
can  know  nothing  of  Him,  then  we  can  know  nothing 
of  anything  beneath  Him,  because  we  cannot  know  the 
validity  of  a  single  law  of  thought  according  to  which 
cognition  seems  to  take  place,  for  the  obvious  reason 
that  we  cannot  know  whence  those  laws  are.  The 
postulate  which  we  claim,  is  not  gratuitously  assumed  : 
it  is  assumed  by  reason  of  as  valid  logical  necessity  as 


Validity  of  A-Priori  Noli  ns.  239 

any  of  our  other  conclusions  from  first  principles.  I 
may  add,  that  it  receives  a  continuous  confirmation  in 
the  course  of  all  our  other  thinking.  Assume  that 
Truth  is  one  and  eternal,  and  that,  therefore,  thought 
is  thought  in  earth  and  heaven,  and  is  the  same  so  far 
as  it  is  truthful,  and  we  see  that  the  coherency  of  all 
subsequent  conclusions  with  each  other,  and  with  ex- 
perience, both  as  to  nature,  God,  and  providence,  rises 
continually  with  a  cumulative  evidence  that  we  have 
begun  with  the  right  principles. 

When  stating  Herbert  Spencer's  view  to  you,  I 
showed  you  briefly  that  it  was  practical  atheism.  A 
being  of  whom  we  can  know  nothing  is  practically  non- 
existent. We  dare  not  ascribe  to  him  any  attribute  ; 
and,  therefore,  we  cannot  exercise  towards  him  any 
definite  feeling  of  trust,  reverence,  or  love.  We  know 
not  what  to  expect  from  him,  nor  what  service  to  ren- 
der him.  How  can  any  one  be  more  completely  "  with- 
out God,  and  without  hope  in  the  world?"  The  best 
established  rules  of  thought  bring  us  to  the  same 
atheistic  conclusion  from  these  premises.  The  mind 
only  knows  being  by  means  of  its  knowledge  of  proper- 
ties. The  cognition  of  the  essentia  is  in  order  to  the 
cognition  of  the  esse ;  if  the  quiddity  of  any  notion  is 
wholly  unknown,  then  its  entity  must  be  more  so.  Let 
the  minds  of  men  be  forced,  then,  to  this  doctrine,  that 
they  can  know  absolutely  nothing  of  what  God  is,  and 
they  will  no  longer  believe  that  He  is.  Has  not  Mr. 
Spencer,  in  fact,  verified  this  result  himself?  After 
setting  out  with  Mr.  Mansel's  proofs  that  God  is  only 
the  "  Great  Unknowable,"  he  ends  by  substituting  for 
Him  a  material  Force. 

The  Hamiltonians,  after  undermining  all  our  knowl- 
edge by  making  it  relative,  seek  to  found  it  again  by 
resorting  to  "  belief,"  as  a  valid  ground  for  receiving 
truths,  distinct  from  knowledge.  According  to  their 
leader,  belief  is  much  more  extensive  than  knowl- 


240  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

edge.  The  primary  data  of  the  reason  are  unproved 
and  (in  the  Hamiltonian  sense)  incomprehensible. 
But  they  are  held  by  a  faith.  Thus,  all  knowledge 
begins  in  faith  ;  and  belief  is  in  order  to  knowl- 
edge. First  truths,  we  believe.  Conclusions  deduced 
from  them,  we  know.  Thus,  also,  they  seek  to  give 
us  back  a  God,  after  having  taken  Him  away  with 
their  doctrine  that  the  absolute  and  infinite  are  incog- 
noscible.  God  is,  indeed,  unknowable  :  but  He  is  be- 
lievable, say  they.  We  accept  His  existence,  not  by 
knowledge,  but  by  faith.  Now,  as  I  hold  that  their 
supposed  emergency  is  a  mistake,  I  regard  their  pro- 
posed remedy  for  it  as  a  worse  mistake.  The  difficulty 
does  not  exist  of  knowing  our  legitimate  primitive  and 
infinite  notions  as  valid  cognitions.  But,  if  it  existed, 
this  tender  of  a  "  belief"  in  them,  which  is  something 
else  than  knowledge,  would  be  only  mischievous. 

I  object,  first :  that  the  word  "  belief  "  is  too  ambigu- 
ous. It  is  often  used  popularly  to  express  a  conviction 
which  rests  on  only  probable  evidence  and  is  of  inferior 
certainty  to  knowledge.  Thus,  one  will  say:  "  I  believe 
my  friend  is  now  alive,  but  I  do  not  know  it ;  for  I  have 
not  seen  him  recently."  Now,  does  Hamilton  mean  to 
be  understood  as  allowing  this  meaning,  as  teaching 
that  our  conviction  of  first  truths  is  only  probable  and 
comparatively  weak,  while  our  conviction  of  deduced 
truths  is  positive  ?  Of  course  he  does  not ;  he  knows 
too  well  the  obvious  retort,  that  no  deduction  can  con- 
tain more  certainty  than  its  premises.  But  this  tender 
of  faith  instead  of  knowledge,  as  the  evidence  we  have 
of  the  primary  data  of  reason,  tends  none  the  less  to 
disparage  the  validity  of  our  knowledge.  By  belief, 
again,  some  philosophers,  as  McCosh,  seem  to  designate 
that  conviction  which  we  have  of  truths  formerly 
known  by  intuition,  but  now  known  by  reminiscence. 
Yesterday,  I  had  visual  perception  of  a  horse  ;  I  saw 
that  it  was  grey.  To-day,  I  believe  it  is  grey,  relying 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  241 

on  the  fidelity  of  my  recollection.  But  this  is  not 
Hamilton's  meaning1 ;  and,  indeed,  it  is  opposed  to  his  ; 
for,  while  he  applies  the  term,  belief,  to  the  first  intui- 
tion, McCosh  applies  it  only  to  the  remembered  con- 
cept. Hamilton,  if  we  may  accept  his  own  definition  in 
its  obvious  sense,  uses  the  word  "belief"  in  its  proper 
and  characteristic  sense,  as  a  conviction  grounded  in 
trust.  This  is  what  discriminating  men,  this  is  what  the 
Scriptures,  mean,  when  they  distinguish  knowledge 
from  belief.  We  know  those  things  which  our  own 
cognitive  faculties  attest;  we  believe  those  things  which 
other  persons  whom  we  can  trust  attest  to  us,  in  the 
absence  of  personal  knowledge.  I  know  that  when  I 
was  last  in  Richmond,  the  River  James  was  flowing, 
for  I  saw  it.  I  believe  that  the  River  Thames  is  flow- 
ing, which  I  never  saw,  because  many  people  whom  I 
can  trust  assure  me  of  it.  Now,  therefore,  there  is  a 
contradiction  in  saying  that  we  hold  the  primary  data 
of  the  reason,  not  by  knowledge,  but  by  faith,  by  a  trust. 
Trust  on  whom  ?  On  God  ?  Sir  William  Hamilton 
will  not  make  that  answer,  for  he  knows  that  to  be  the 
central  feature  of  Mysticism.  The  Mystic  answers,  that 
he  knows  the  necessary  dicta  of  the  reason  to  be  true, 
only  because  his  faith  in  God's  truth  assures  him  that 
his  Maker  would  not  so  have  constructed  the  frame- 
work of  his  spirit  as  to  compel  him  to  believe  what  is 
not  true.  But  Sir  William  Hamilton  cannot  be  ignorant 
of  the  retort  of  the  sceptic  :  How  did  any  one  find  out 
that  there  had  been  -a  Maker,  or  that  this  Maker  is  cer- 
tainly trustworthy,  save  by  the  authority  of  the  primary 
data  of  his  own  reason  ?  The  Mystic  moves  in  a  circle ; 
he  cites  a  God  to  testify  that  the  necessary  data  of 
man's  reason  are  trustworthy ;  but  he  has  to  cite  those 
data  to  testify  that  the  God  is  trustworthy.  Now,  it  is 
perfectly  true,  that  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  Maker  is 
to  plunge  into  universal  doubt ;  for,  if  He  who  made 
our  faculties  may  deceive  us,  then  He  may  have  made 
16 


242  Sensrtalistic  Philosophy. 

our  faculties  so  that  they  will  deceive  us.  So  far,  the 
Mystic  has  the  right.  But  when  he  advances  against 
the  sceptic  to  any  more  positive  result,  he  falls  into  his 
vicious  circle.  If,  then,  our  conviction  of  a  first  truth 
of  our  own  reason  is  a  faith,  a  trust,  I  return  to  my 
question  :  A  trust  on  whom  ?  The  only  answer  is  :  On 
my  reason.  But  my  reason  is  myself!  (Or,  will  the 
Hamiltonians  turn  to  that  doctrine  of  the  impersonality 
of  the  Reason,  which  their  master  demolished,  in  Cou- 
sin ?)  Thus,  we  see  that  the  statement  is  merely  a 
deceptive  play  upon  words  :  for  the  very  condition  of 
a  faith,  the  testimony  of  another,  is  lacking.  Wihen  I 
am  convinced  that  the  horse  I  saw  was  grey,  I  have  no 
faith,  because  there  is  nobody,  except  myself,  to  trust 
about  it :  there  is  knowledge.  When  my  reason  sees 
implied  in  a  universe  of  effects  an  absolute  Cause,  this 
is  not  a  faith,  but  knowledge  ;  there  is,  as  yet,  no  other 
witness  than  my  Reason,  which  is  myself. 

But,  last :  every  one  is  familiar  with  the  maxim,  that 
streams  do  not  rise  above  their  fountains.  Conclusions 
rest  on  their  premises.  There  is,  then,  no  other  form 
of  validity  for  the  conclusions  than  that  which  sustains 
the  premises.  If,  as  Hamilton  says,  the  ultimate  facts 
of  consciousness  "  are  given  less  in  the  form  of  cogni- 
tions than  of  beliefs,"  then  the  deductions  of  them  are 
less  cognitions  than  beliefs.  According  to  Hamilton, 
we  hold  the  principles  of  geometry,  for  instance,  by 
faith,  but  the  demonstrated  theorems  by  knowledge. 
All  men  of  common  sense  will  join,  me  in  saying  :  that, 
if  we  hold  the  principles  only  by  faith,  then  we  hold  the 
conclusions  therefrom  only  by  faith  also.  But  if  we 
know  conclusions,  we  must  also  know  the  premises. 
Hamilton  confirms  this  refutation  of  himself  in  these 
lucid  words  ("  Dissertations  on  Reid,"  pige  763) :  "The 
principles  of  our  knowledge  must  be  themselves  knowledge." 
The  weakness  of  any  other  doctrine  is  evident  from 
this  fact,  that  there  is  no  generic  distinction  between 


Validity  of  A -Priori  Notions.  243 

that  judgment  of  the  reason  which  sees  a  first  truth, and 
that  which  sees  a  valid  relation  between  premises  and 
their  next  conclusion.  The  difference  of  rational  func- 
tion is  in  the  circumstances,  not  in  the  essence,  of  the 
cases.  When  we  have  said,  "  premises  and  their  next 
conclusions,"  have  we  not  implied  that  this  perceiving 
power  of  the  reason  which  sees  that  relation  must  be 
immediate,  and,  in  that  sense,  intuitive  ?  Surely.  For 
how  shall  a  medium  be  found  between  premises  and 
their  immediate  consequence?  If,  then,  reason,  in  its 
discursive  or  deductive  exercise,  is  cognitive  ;  reason, 
in  its  intuitive  exercise,  is  equally  cognitive.  This 
erroneous  subterfuge,  which  admits  that  the  latter  .is 
not  cognition,  but  only  "  belief,"  is  a  gratuitous  conces- 
sion to  absolute  scepticism  ;  gratuitous,  because  that 
system  of  absolute  self-contradictions  is  worthy  of  no 
concessions  ;  and  mischievous,  because  it  leaves  us  de- 
fenceless against  the  sceptic's  cavils. 

The  student  should  be  guarded  also  against  inferring 
from  the  correct  definition  of  belief  or  faith,  that  it  is 
unreasonable.  Faith  is  our  conviction  of  a  truth  from 
the  testimony  of  another  whom  we  trust.  Is  it,  there- 
fore, unreasoning  or  contra-rational  ?  By  no  means. 
In  order  that  the  testimony  shall  cause  belief,  it  must 
be  credible.  Testimony  not  judged  credible  propagates  no 
conviction.  Now,  when  we  make  this  statement,  we  are 
not  speaking  of  the  numerous  instances  in  which  men 
concede  a  certain  vacillating  assent,  prompted  by  men- 
tal indolence  and  self-indulgence,  to  testimony,  about 
whose  real  credibility  they  do  not  trouble  themselves. 
It  may  be,  that  in  many,  this  species  of  credulousness 
goes  very  far,  and  grows  into  a  habit.  It  does  not 
deserve  the  name  of  belief;  and  it  is  a  mere  abuse  of 
that  precious  means  of  learning.  But  then,  have  not 
all  men's  other  rational  processes  their  abuses  likewise? 
If  the  fact  that  a  given  function  of  the  reason  is  often 
abused,  disparages  it,  then  all  must  be  disparaged.  I 


244  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

repeat :  every  conviction  of  mind,  worthy  of  the  honor- 
able name  of  "  belief,"  takes  into  its  account  the  credi- 
bility of  the  testimony  believed.  But  how  can  this 
quality  of  credibility  be  ascertained  ?  Rationally,  and 
in  that  mode  alone.  By  this  simple  view,  we  learn  that, 
although  belief  has  the  peculiarity  of  grounding  con- 
viction upon  the  testimony  of  another,  yet  this  circum- 
stance does  not  at  all  make  belief  a  less  rational  convic- 
tion than  any  other  legitimate  cognition.  There  is  no 
strife  between  sound  belief  and  reason.  When  the  wit- 
ness is  credible,  then,  to  believe  is  supremely  reason- 
able, and  is  the  very  dictate  of  reason  herself. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ORIGIN   OF  A-PRIORI   NOTIONS. 

TN  the  last  chapter,  in  order  to  simplify  the  discussion, 
-  a  postulate  was  assumed  as  to  the  order  of  relation 
between  the  a  priori  notions  and  the  primitive  judg- 
ments of  the  reason  on  the  one  hand,  and  our  experi- 
mental perceptions  on  the  other.  I  assumed  that  the 
former,  though  arising  upon  occasion  of  some  connected 
perception,  are  yet  original  in  their  true  cause,  and  are 
determined  from  within  by  the  constitution  of  the  mind, 
and  not  from  without  by  the  power  of  the  objects  of 
sensation.  This  is,  in  fact,  the  centre  of  the  whole 
battle-ground  between  the  Sensualistic  and  the  Rational 
philosophy.  We  must,  then,  return  and  fortify  our 
tenure  of  it,  not  by  assertion,  but  by  proof. 

An  important  discrimination  should  be  made,  in  ad,- 
vance,  concerning  the  nature  of  this  proof.  It  must  be, 
to  a  certain  degree,  and  in  a  certain  sense,  a  priori. 
Of  course,  it  is  preposterous  to  deduce  a  primitive 
judgment  from  premises  ;  for,  if  primitive,  it  has  none. 
But  yet,  there  is  a  species  of  discussion  to  which  all 
men  sometimes  resort,  in  order  to  determine  the  real 
character  of  a  given  notion  or  judgment,  which  consists 
not  in  deduction,  and  is  therefore  not  a  posteriori,  but 
which  consists  in  the  ascertainment  of  the  conditions  in 
which  that  judgment  exists  in  the  mind.  For  instance  : 
when  I  see  an  effect,  I  judge  there  was  an  efficient 
power  present  in  its  cause.  The  very  question  is, 
whether  that  judgment  has  premises  before  it — that  is 

(245) 


246  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

to  say,  whether  it  is  a  deduction  (or  induction).  For, 
if  it  has  none,  it  is  a  primitive  judgment.  Now,  this 
question  is,  of  course,  not  to  be  settled  by  such  deduc- 
tion as  would  imply  premises  before  the  primitive 
judgment.  We  do  not  propose  to  be  guilty  of  such  an 
inconsistency.  But  it  is  to  be  settled  by  a  faithful  in- 
spection of  the  conditions  in  which  that  judgment  lies 
in  consciousness.  While  we  cannot  deduce  from  pre- 
mises a  primitive  truth,  yet  we  may  be  able  to  show 
that  the  judgments,  which  Sensualism  would  fain  make 
the  premises  of  that  truth,  are  not  premises  to  it,  and 
thus  we  may  vindicate  its  primitiveness.  Such  will  be 
the  nature  of  our  inquiry. 

When  we  recur  to  the  history  of  the  rise  of  the  Sen- 
sualistic philosophy,  we  see  Locke  and  all  his  followers 
attempting  to  derive  everything  from  sense-percep- 
tions. Not  content  with  denying  the  doctrine  of  innate 
ideas,  Locke  made  the  mind  a  tabula  rasa,  ready  to  re- 
ceive impressions  from  without,  but  with  nothing  im- 
pressed on  it  by  nature.  In  carrying  out  this  idea,  he 
and  his  followers  attempt  to  resolve  everything  into 
results  of  sensation.  As  I  have  already  remarked,  the 
common  error  of  all  their  processes  is  the  mistaking  of 
mere  occasion,  for  cause.  Inasmuch  as  they  perceived, 
very  justly,  that  the  rational  notion,  or  judgment,  only 
arose  when  sense-perception  occurred,  they  jumped  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  latter  caused  it.  The  mistake 
is  a  very  old  one ;  as  is  also  its  lucid  correction.  Thus 
Socrates,  in  the  Phaedo,  criticizes  this  confusion,  which 
he  found  in  the  scheme  of  Anaxagoras.  "  I  might 
compare  him  to  a  person  who  began  by  maintaining 
generally,  that  mind  is  the  cause  of  the  actions  of  Soc- 
rates; but  who,  when  he  endeavored  to  explain  the 
causes  of  my  several  actions  in  detail,  went  on  to  show 
that  I  sit  here  because  my  body  is  made  up  of  bones 
and  muscles ;  and  the  bones,  as  he  would  say,  are  hard, 
and  have  ligaments  which  divide  them,  and  the  muscles 


Origin  of  A- Priori  Notions.  247 

are  elastic,  and  they  cover  the  bones,  which  have 
also  a  covering  or  environment  of  flesh  and  skin  which 
contains  them  ;  and  as  the  bones  are  lifted  at  their 
joints  by  the  contraction  or  relaxation  of  their  muscles, 
I  am  able  to  bend  my  limbs,  and  this  is  why  I  am  sit- 
ting- here  in  a  curved  posture  ;  that  is  what  he  would 
say,  and  he  would  have  a  similar  explanation  of  my 
talking  to  you,  which  he  would  attribute  to  sound,  and 
air,  and  hearing,  and  he  would  assign  ten  thousand 
other  causes  of  the  same  sort,  forgetting  to  mention  the 
true  cause,  which  is,  that  the  Athenians  have  thought 
fit  to  condemn  me,  and  accordingly,  I  have  thought  it 
better  and  more  right  to  remain  here  and  undergo  my 
sentence ;  for  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  these  bones 
and  muscles  of  mine  would  have  gone  off  to  Megara  or 
Bceotia — by  the  dog  of  Egypt,  they  would  ! — if  they  had 
been  guided  only  by  their  own  idea  of  what  was  best, 
and  if  T  had  not  chosen  as  the  better  and  nobler  part, 
instead  of  playing  truant  and  running  away,  to  undergo 
any  punishment  which  the  State  inflicts.  There  is  sure- 
ly a  strange  confusion  of  causes  and  conditions  in  all 
this!" 

Such,  putting  sensations  for  bones  and  muscles,  is  the 
sensualistic  analysis  of  our  acts  of  intelligence.  It  ar- 
gues, that  our  abstract  notion  of  space  is  an  empirical 
result  of  our  observation  of  two  bodies  separated,  or 
two  separated  parts  of  one  body ;  that  our  abstract 
notion  of  duration  is  but  a  derivation  from  observed 
successions  in  our  consciousness  ;  that  our  abstract 
notion  of  self-identity  is,  in  like  manner,  the  experimen- 
tal result  of  a  comparison  of  a  second  conscious  state 
with  a  first,  and  that  our  judgments  supposed  to  be 
axioms,  are  rules  learned  from  observation.  Now  I 
would  begin  with  the  simplest,  which  is  also  the  most 
general  and  conclusive  refutation,  by  remarking  what 
no  one  will  deny,  that  a  mind  is  an  intelligent  agent  of 
some  sort.  Has  it  any  permanent  essentia  whatsoever? 


248  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Surely  ;  for  esse  without  essentia  is  a  thing  incognizable. 
There  are,  then,  some  permanent  attributes  ;  and  must 
not  these  be  powers  of  some  kind  ?  No  one  will  say 
that  these  attributes  are  only  passive  powers,  and  yet 
the  mind  is  an  agent.  It  must,  then,  although  not  fur- 
nished with  innate  ideas,  have  some  innate  powers,  de- 
termining its  own  acts  of  intelligence.  It  is  related 
that  when  the  plan  of  Locke's  Essay  was  first  reported 
to  his  great  cotemporary,  Leibnitz,  before  the  book  had 
yet  appeared  in  Germany,  and  the  narrator  stated  that  all 
was  founded  on  a  literal  acceptance  of  the  old  scholas- 
tic law,  Nihil  in  intellectu  quod  non  prius  in  sensu,  the 
great  German  replied,  Etiam^nisi  intellectus  ipse.  These 
words  contain  the  key  to  the  whole  discussion.  These 
four  words  disclose,  like  the  spear  of  another  Ithuriel, 
the  sophism  of  the  whole  Sensualistic  system.  In  at- 
tempting to  enumerate  the  affections  of  the  mind,  it 
overlooked  the  mind  itself.  At  the  first  fair  attempt  to 
repair  this  omission,  the  whole  system  collapses.  It 
had  proposed  to  analyze  all  mental  states  into  sensa- 
tion. Well,  the  soul  cannot  have  a  consciousness  of  a 
sensation  without  necessarily  developing  the  idea  of 
conscious  self,  over  against  that  of  the  sensuous  object. 
"  As  soon  as  the  human  being  says  to  itself,  *  I,'  the 
human  being  affirms  its  own  existence,  and  distin- 
guishes itself  from  that  external  world  whence  it  de- 
rives impressions  of  which  it  is  not  the  author.  In  this 
primary  fact  are  revealed  the  two  primary  objects  of 
human  knowledge  ;  on  the  one  side,  the  human  being 
itself,  the  individual  person  that  feels  and  perceives 
himself;  on  the  other  side,  the  external  world  that  is 
felt  and  perceived  ;  the  subject  and  the  object."  That 
science  may  not  consistently  omit  or  overlook  the  first 
of  these,  we  have  proved  absolutely  by  this  simple  re- 
mark, that  our  self-consciousness  presents  the  subject, 
self,  to  us  in  every  perception  of  the  external  world, 
as  distinct  from  the  object ;  presents  it  even  more  im- 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  249 

mediately  than  the  external  object,  the  perception  of 
which  it  mediates  to  us.  We  must  first  be  conscious 
of  self,  in  order  to  perceive  the  not-self.  Whatever 
certainty  we  may  have  that  the  latter  is  a  real  object  of 
knowledge,  we  must,  therefore,  have  a  certainty  even 
more  intimate  that  the  former  is  also  real.  Why,  then, 
shall  it  be  the  only  substance,  the  only  real  existence  in 
nature,  to  be  ostracised  from  true  science  ?  This  is 
absurd.  Is  it  pleaded,  with  the  Positivist,  that  its 
being  and  affections  are  not  phenomena,  not  cognizable 
to  the  bodily  senses?  How  shallow  and  pitiful  is  this, 
when  these  bodily  senses  themselves  owe  all  their 
validity  to  this  inward  consciousness  ! 

Let  us  now  advance  a  step  farther.  As  we  have 
seen,  every  substance  must  have  its  attributes.  The 
Ego  is  a  real  existence.  If  our  cognitions  have  any 
regular  method,  then  it  must  be  by  virtue  of  some 
primary  principles  of  cognition  which  are  subjective  to 
the  mind.  While  we  claim  no  "innate  ideas,"  yet  it  is 
evident  that  the  intelligence  has  some  innate  norms, 
which  determine  the  nature  of  its  processes,  whenever 
the  objective  world  presents  the  occasion  of  them.  To 
deny  this,  we  must  not  only  believe  the  absurdity  of 
regular  series  of  effects  without  any  regulative  cause  in 
their  subject;  but  we  must  also  deny  totally  the  spon- 
taneity of  the  mind.  For  what  can  be  plainer  than 
this  :  that  if  the  mind  has  no  such  innate  norms,  then  it 
is  merely  passive,  operated  on  from  without,  but  never 
an  agent  itself.  Now,  then,  do  not  these  innate  norms 
of  intelligence  and  feeling  constitute  primitive  facts  of 
mind  ?  And  to  the  Positivist,  who  professes  to  discard 
all  psychology,  I  add  :  Are  not  these  regular  facts  of 
the  mind's  constitution,  proper  objects  of  scientific  ob- 
servation? Is  it  not  manifest  that  their  earnest  com- 
prehension will  give  us  the  laws  of  our  thinking,  and 
feeling,  and  volition  ?  Why  have  we  not  here  a  field 
of  experimental  science  as  legitimate  as  that  material 


250  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

world  which  is  even  less  intimately  and  certainly 
known  ? 

When  we  proceed  to  details,  we  find  that  the  attempt 
to  construct  a  system  of  cognitions,  on  any  plan  whatso- 
ever, without  a  priori  notions  and  judgments,  is,  in 
every  instance,  a  self-contradiction.  The  mind  derives 
all  its  ideas  from  sensation,  exclaims  the  Sensualistic 
philosopher.  No  ;  for  here  is  one  judgment  with  which 
it  must  begin  ;  namely,  that  sense-perceptions  are  valid  ! 
Here  is  one  axiomatic  truth  which  they  assume.  This, 
surely,  is  not  a  derived  truth.  From  what  can  it  be 
derived,  without  traveling  in  a  vicious  circle?  Again  : 
the  Positivist  exclaims,  "  The  fundamental  character  of 
the  positive  philosophy  is,  that  it  regards  all  phenomena 
as  subjected  to  invariable  natural  laws."  Must  not  the 
principle  which  is  "  fundamental  "  to  a  philosophy  be  a 
primitive  judgment?  The  foundation  is  that  which  is 
at  the  bottom,  with  no  other  part  of  the  building  be- 
neath it.  Again :  How  can  this  principle  be  learned 
empirically  concerning  "  all  phenomena  ?  "  Has  any 
positive  philosopher  observed  them  all?  Then  he 
would  be  omniscient  and  ubiquitous.  But  a  mere  in- 
ference from  partial  observations  can  never  give  us 
universal,  and  much  less,  necessary  truth  !  If  this 
fundamental  law  of  Positivism  is  known  at  all,  it  is  only 
known  as  a  necessary  and  primitive  judgment. 

So,  when  we  examine  the  pretended  analyses  by  which 
our  original  abstract  notions  are  attempted  to  be  re- 
duced to  inferences  from  sensations,  we  find  them  all 
deceptive.  The  Sensualist  would  have  us  infer  our 
identity  from  the  comparison  of  a  second  state  of  con- 
sciousness, induced  by  sensation,  with  a  first.  But  how 
can  comparison  take  place  validly,  unless  the  identity 
of  the  intelligence  that  looks  first  at  one  and  then  at  the 
other  of  the  objects  compared  be  assumed  beforehand? 
This  may  be  illustrated  in  a  very  palpable  way.  Two 
children,  in  different  rooms,  begin  to  dispute  concerning 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  251 

the  beauty  of  their  toys  or  size  of  their  apples.  Each 
claims  that  his  is  the  largest  and  finest.  But,  as  long- 
as  they  remain  apart,  and  the  two  apples  are  subjected 
to  the  inspection  of  different  pairs  of  eyes,  the  dispute 
is  endless  and  aimless.  Let  them  come  into  the  same 
room,  and  let  one  child  look  at  both  apples  ;  then  a  de- 
cision is  possible.  Let  the  Sensualist  attempt  to  state 
in  words  this  process  of  inference  along  which,  he  sup- 
poses, the  mind  passes  to  the  conviction  of  its  identity. 
"  It  infers  that  the  second  sensation  is  the  sensation  of 
the  same  mind  that  was  conscious  of  the  first."  But 
as  soon  as  the  word  "same  mind"  was  conceived,  the 
full  notion  of  identity  was  already  formed,  and  it  was 
there  in  advance  of  all  inference.  In  a  word,  no  logical 
process  can  account  for  our  belief  of  our  own  identity, 
because  it  must  be  assumed  as  unquestionable,  in  order 
to  any  logical  process  whatsoever.  For,  unless  the 
reasoning  agent  is  already  certain  that  the  intelligence 
which  views  the  second  premise  is  the  same  which 
views  the  first,  it  is  impossible  that  it  can  know 
whether  any  valid  relation  exists  between  the  two. 
We  are  thus  taught  that,  instead  of  getting  the  knowl- 
edge of  our  identity  as  the  result  of  any  process  of 
mind,  it  must  be  an  a  priori  knowledge  implied  in  every 
other  process. 

Many  are  the  modes  in  which  different  Sensualistic 
philosophers  account  for  the  derivation  of  our  notion 
of  abstract  space  from  sensations.  The  man  of  common 
sense  can  infer  that  they  have  an  arduous  task  from  the 
simple  fact,  which  none  can  deny,  that  empty  space  is 
neither  seen,  heard,  touched,  tasted,  nor  smelled.  These 
senses  only  tell  us  of  bodies  which  are  in  space.  Locke 
would  have  us. infer  the  notion  from  the  comparison  of 
two  bodies  seen  separated  in  space.  James  Mill  and 
his  followers  would  derive  it  from  a  "  muscular  sense," 
recognizing  the  absence  of  resistance,  so  that  space  is 
but  our  sense-perception  of  the  extended  not  resisting. 


252  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown  would  resolve  it  into  a  form  of  our 
notion  of  succession,  given  us  by  the  "  muscular  sense," 
during-  the  progressive  contraction  of  some  set  of 
muscles.  But  all  the  plans  have  this  common  vice,  that 
the  notion  of  abstract  space  has  to  be  assumed  at  the 
beginning,  in  order  to  carry  on  the  genesis  of  it.  Thus, 
when  Locke  compared  two  bodies  as  separated,  he 
must  have  had  the  notion  of  space  already  in  his  mind, 
in  order  to  represent  to  himself  the  word  "  separated." 
This  is  too  plain  for  dispute.  It  is  as  impossible  for  the 
mind  to  conceive  a«body,  without  positing  it  in  space, 
as  it  is  to  conceive  an  attribute  without  referring  it  to 
a  being  or  entity.  Our  abstract  notion  of  space  is  the 
mental  locus,  which  must  be  given  by  the  mind  itself,  in 
order  to  think  the  idea  of  body.  Nor  does  the  intro- 
duction of  a  "  muscular  sense'*'  help  the  matter.  Accord- 
ing to  its  own  advocates  and  patrons,  such  a  sense 
simply  perceives  resistance.  It  could  never  give  us, 
then,  a  direct  perception  of  extension.  On  this  scheme, 
just  as  much  as  on  any  other,  the  latter  notion  must  be 
furnished  by  the  reason,  and  it  must  be  in  order  to  the 
mind's  construing  its  abstract  idea  of  extension  empty 
of  resistance.  Were  Dr.  Thomas  Brown's  method 
valid,  it  would  but  resolve  the  notion  of  space  into 
another  form  of  our  notion  of  successive  time,  and  this 
we  shall  show  to  be  underived. 

Our  notion  of  successive  duration  is  accounted  for 
by  the  Sensualistic  system  as  derived  by  inference  from 
our  observation  of  .a  sequence  in  our  states  of  conscious- 
ness. The  ingenious  illustration  of  this  analysis  has 
been  mentioned  in  a  previous*  place.  But  I  now  ask  : 
What  is  involved  in  the  word  "successive"?  When 
the  mind  notes  the  second  consciousness,  why  is  it  that 
she  infallibly  puts  it  in  a  sequence  after  the  first  ?  Why 
is  it  that  we  find  it  impossible  ever  to  place  it  abreast  of 
the  other  and  omit  the  notion  of  sequence  ?  We  do  have 
coexistent  consciousnesses,  or,  at  least,  what  appear 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  253 

such.  Our  neighbor  tells  us  of  a  thunder-storm  in  such 
immediate  proximity,  "  that  the  lightning's  flash  and 
the  burst  of  the  thunder  came  precisely  together." 
Now,  why  is  it  that  it  is  impossible  for  this  person  to 
think  the  second  flash  and  thunder-clap,  a  moment  after, 
coexistent  with  the  first  ?  How  is  it  that  we  never  get 
these  sensations  mixed  at  the  time,  and  never  confuse 
the  order,  no  matter  how  small  the  appreciable  inter- 
val ?  Obviously  because  the  order  of  succession  is 
given  in  the  constitutive  law  of  our  perceptions.  We 
are  conscious  of  sensations  in  succession.  True.  But 
when  you  have  said  "  succession,"  you  have  already 
formed  the  notion  of  time;  the  abstract  notion  of  time 
is  essential  as  the  preexisting  form  upon  which  to  con- 
strue your  ideas  of  successive  impressions.  The  notion 
of  time  is  in  order  to  the  perception  of  succession  :  the 
other  scheme  puts  the  effect  before  the  cause. 

We  thus  find  that  the  postulate  made  in  the  previous 
chapter  is  true.  The  reason  can  only  cognize  body  by 
putting  it  in  space  ;  and  event,  by  putting  it  in  time. 
And  the  source  of  these  notions  is  from  the  reason 
itself,  acting  or  performing  the  genesis  of  the  notions 
first,  when  body  or  event  is  given  us  in  perception. 
Perception,  then,  is  the  first  occasion,  but  not  the  cause, 
of  the  notions. 

In  the  brief  review  of  "Positivism,"  we  found  it  es- 
sentially a  phase  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  differ- 
ing from  the  other  phases,  in  fact,  in  no  distinctive 
principle,  but  only  in  its  bold  consistency  and  in  cer- 
tain absurd,  but  non-essential,  excrescences  of  its  found- 
er's imagination.  We  have  now  reached  the  stage,  in 
this  discussion,  of  the  genesis  of  our  primitive  notions 
and  judgments  at  which  we  can  expose  the  capital 
error  of  "  Positivism,"  and  also  of  the  other  Sensualists. 
According  to  M.  Comte,  Mathematics,  the  science  of 
quantity,  is  the  most  positive,  and,  therefore,  the  most 
perfect  of  all  sciences,  and  the  basis  of  the  whole  struc- 


254  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ture  of  the  "  Positive  Philosophy."  Now,  when  we 
advert  to  this  science,  we  see  at  once  that  it  deals,  not 
with  visible  and  tangible  magnitudes  and  quantities, 
but  with  abstract  ones.  The  point,  the  line,  the  poly- 
gon, the  curve,  of  the  geometrician,  are  not  those  which 
any  human  hand  ever  drew  with  pen,  pencil,  or  chalk- 
line,  or  which  human  eye  ever  saw.  The  mathematical 
point  is  absolutely  without  length,  breadth,  or  thick- 
ness ;  the  line  absolutely  without  thickness  or  breadth ; 
the  surface  absolutely  without  thickness  !  How  impo- 
tent is  it  for  M.  Comte  to  attempt  covering  up  this  crush- 
ing fact  by  talking  of  the  phenomena  of  Mathematics  !  In 
his  sense  of  the  word  phenomena,  the  science  has  none. 
The  intelligent  geometrician  knows  that,  though  he 
may  draw  the  diagram  of  his  polygon  or  his  curve 
with  the  point  of  a  diamond  upon  the  most  polished 
plane  of  metal  which  the  mechanic  arts  can  give  him, 
yet  it  is  not  exactly  that  absolute  polygon  or  curve  of 
which  he  is  reasoning.  How,  then,  can  he  know  that 
the  conclusions  he  predicates,  by  the  aid  of  the  senses, 
of  this  imperfect  type,  are  exactly  true  of  the  perfect 
ideal  of  the  figures  ?  He  knows  that  the  true  answer 
is  this  :  abstract  reasoning  assures  him  that  the  small 
difference  between  the  imperfect,  visible  diagram  and 
the  ideal,  absolute  figure,  is  one  which  does  not  intro- 
duce any  element  of  error,  when  the  argument  is  ap- 
plied to  the  ideal.  But,  on  the  contrary,  the  reason 
sees  that  the  more  the  imperfection  of  the  diagram  is 
abstracted,  the  more  does  the  argument  approximate 
exact  truth.  Now,  I  ask  :  How  does  the  mind  pass 
from  the  phenomenal  diagram  to  the  conceptual  ?  from 
the  imperfect  to  the  perfect  idea?  Neither  Positivism 
nor  Sensualism  has  any  answer.  So,  the  notions  of 
time,  space,  ratio,  velocity^momentum,  substance,  upon 
which  the  higher  calculus  reasons,  are  also  abstract. 
Positivism  would  make  all  human  knowledge  consist 
of  that  of  phenomena  and  their  laws.  Well,  what  is  a 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  255 

"  law  of  nature  ?  "  It  is  not  itself  a  phenomenon  ;  it  is  a 
general  notion  which,  in  order  to  be  truly  general,  must 
be  wholly  abstract.  How  short-sighted  is  that  obser- 
vation which  leaves  out  the  more  essential  elements  of 
its  own  avowed  process  !  These  instances,  to  which 
others  might  be  added,  show  that  the  admission  of 
something  a  priori  is  necessary  to  the  construction  of 
even  the  most  phenomenal  knowledge. 

The  capital  error  of  Positivism  and  all  other  forms  of 
Sensualism  appears,  again,  in  denying  the  prior  valid- 
ity of  our  axiomatic  beliefs,  or  primitive  judgments, 
and  in  representing  them  as  only  empirical  conclusions. 
That  psychology  and  logic  of  common  sense,  in  which 
every  man  believes,  and  on  which  everyone  acts,  with- 
out troubling  himself  to  give  it  a  technical  statement, 
holds  that,  to  conclude  requires  premises  to  conclude 
from  ;  and  that  the  validity  of  the  conclusion  cannot  be 
above  that  of  these  premises.  Every  man's  common- 
sense  tells  him  that  a  process  of  reasoning  must  have  a 
starting  point.  The  chain  which  is  so  fastened  as  to 
sustain  any  weight,  or  even  sustain  itself,  must  have  its 
first  point  of  support  at  the  top.  That  which  depends 
must  depend  on  something  not  dependent.  But  why 
multiply  words  upon  this  truth,  which  every  rational 
system  of  mental  science  has  adopted  as  its  alphabet? 
It  can  scarcely  be  more  happily  expressed  than  in  the 
words  of  a  countryman  of  Comte,  M.  Royer  Collar d : 
"  Did  not  reasoning  rest  upon  principles  anterior  to  the 
reason,  analysis  would  be  without  end,  and  synthesis 
without  commencement."  These  primitive  judgments 
of  the  reason  cannot  be  conclusions  from  observation; 
for  the  simple  cause,  that  they  must  be  in  the  mind  in 
order  to  the  making  of  any  conclusions.  Here  is  a 
radical  fact,  which  explodes  the  whole  Sensualistic 
scheme,  in  all  its  iorms. 

Its  advocates  cannot  but  see  this;  and  hence  they 
labor  with  many  contortions,  to  make  it  appear  that 


256  Sensuakstu  Philosophy. 

these  primitive  judgments  are,  nevertheless,  empirical 
conclusions.,  Comtes  expedient  is  the  following :  Says 
he  :  "  If,  on  the  one  side,  every  positive  theory  must  be 
necessarily  founded  upon  observation,  it  is,  .on  the 
other  side,  equally  plain  that  to  apply  itself  to  the  task 
of  observation,  our  mind  has  need  of  some  theory.  If 
in  contemplating  the  phenomena,  we  do  not  immediately 
attach  them  to  certain  principles,  not  only  would  it  be 
impossible  for  us  to  combine  those  isolated  observations, 
so  as  to  draw  any  fruit  therefrom  ;  but  we  should  be 
entirely  incapable  of  retaining  them,  and  in  most  cases, 
the  facts  would  remain  before  our  eyes  unnoticed.  The 
need  at  all  times  of  some  theory  whereby  to  associate 
facts,  combined  with  the  evident  impossibility  of  the 
human  mind's  forming,  at  its  origin,  theories  out  of  ob- 
servations, is  a  fact  which  it  is  impossible  to  ignore." 
He  then  proceeds  to  explain,  that  the  mind,  perceiving 
the  necessity  of  some  previous  "  theories,"  in  order  to 
associate  its  own  observations,  invents  them,  in  the  form 
of  theological  conceptions.  Having  begun,  by  means 
of  these,  to  observe,  generalize,  and  ascertain  positive 
truths,  it  ends  by  adopting  the  latter,  which  are  solid, 
and  repudiating  the  former,  which  tts  developed  intelli- 
gence has  now  taught  it  to  regard  as  unsubstantial. 
His  idea  of  the  progress  of  science,  then,  seems  to  be 
this:  the  mind  employs  these  assumed  "  theories,''  to 
climb  out  of  the  mire  to  the  top  of  the  solid  rock,  as 
one  employs  a  ladder;  and  having  gained  its  firm  foot- 
ing, it  kicks  them  away!  But  what  if  it  should  turn 
out,  that  this  means  of  ascent,  instead  of  being  only  the 
ladder,  is  the  sole  pillar  also  of  its  knowledge?  When 
it  is  kicked  away,  down  tumbles  the  whole  superstruc- 
ture, with  its  architect  in  its  ruins.  And  the  latter  is 
the  truth.  For  if  these  theories  are  prior  to  our  ob- 
servation, and  are  also  erroneous,  then  all  which  pro- 
ceeded upon  their  assumed  validity  is  as  baseless  as 
they.  It  is  amusing  to  notice  the  simple  art  with  which 


UNIVERSITY 

Origin  of  A-PrioH*$$e$^^/      257 


Comte  seeks  to  vail  this  damning  chasm  in  his  system, 
by  calling  these  baseless  first  assumptions  "  theories." 
They  are,  according  to  his  conception,  manifestly  noth- 
ing but  hypotheses.  Why  did  he  not  call  them  so?  Be- 
cause then,  the  glaring  solecism  would  have  been  an- 
nounced, of  proposing  to  construct  our  whole  system 
of  demonstrated  convictions  upon  a  basis  of  mere  hy- 
pothesis. Nobody  would  have  been  deceived.  Nor 
does  the  subterfuge  of  J.  S.  Mill  avail  any  better:  it  is, 
indeed,  substantially  the  same  with  Comte 's.  (And  this 
identity  in  the  capital  point  shows  that  Mill  is,  in  sub- 
stance, a  Positivist,  notwithstanding  his  disclaimer  of 
the  worse  extravagances  of  the  system.)  His  plan  is 
this:  That  as  the  sound  physicist  propounds  a  hypoth- 
esis, which  at  first  is  only  probable,  not  to  be  now  ac- 
cepted as  a  part  of  science,  but  as  a  temporary  help  for 
preparing  the  materials  of  an  induction  ;  and  as  this  in- 
duction not  seldom  ends  by  proving  that  this  hypoth- 
esis, which  was  at  first  only  a  probable  guess,  was  in- 
deed the  happy  guess,  and  does  contain  the  true  law  ; 
so,  the  whole  of  our  empirical  knowledge  may  be  con- 
structed by  the  parallel  process.  In  other  words,  the 
pretension  of  Mill  is,  in  substance,  that  all  our  primitive 
judgments  are  at  first  only  the  mind's  hypothetical 
guesses ;  and  that  it  is  empirical  reasoning  constructed 
upon  them  afterwards,  which  converts  them  into  uni- 
versal truths.  The  simple,  but  thorough  answer  is  : 
That  this  proving  or  testing  process,  by  which  we  as- 
certain whether  our  hypothesis  is  a  truth,  always  im- 
plies some  principle  to  be  the  criterion.  How,  we  pray, 
was  the  test  applied  to  the  first  hypothesis  of  the  series, 
when,  as  yet,  there  was  no  ascertained  principle  to  ap- 
ply, but  only  hypothesis  ?  Quid  rides  ?  Mr.  Mill's 
process  must  ever  be  precisely  that  of  the  man  who  at- 
tempts to  hang  a  chain  upon  nothing !  No  ;  the  hy- 
pothetic ladder  is  not  the  foundation  of  our  scientific 
knowledge.  Grant  us  a  solid  foundation,  and  a  solid 
17 


258  Sensudlistic  Philosophy. 

structure  building  upon  it ;  the  ladder  of  hypothesis 
may  assist  us  in  carrying  up  the  materials  out  of  which 
we  carry  the  building  still  higher;  that  is  all.  But  the 
parts  which  we  add  of  the  materials  carried  up  by  the 
ladder,  rest  at  last,  not  on  the  ladder,  but  on  the  foun- 
dation. 

The  accepted  tests  of  a  primitive  intuition  are  three  : 
That  it  shall  be  a  first  truth  :  i.  e.  not  learned  from  any 
prior  premises;  That  it  shall  be  necessary,  i.  e.  immedi- 
ately seen  to  be  such,  that  it  not  only  is  true,  but  must 
be  true :  And  that  it  shall  be  universal,  true  of  every 
particular  case  everywhere  and  always.  Hence,  these 
first  truths  are  inevitably  believed  by  all  sane  men, 
whenever  their  attention  is  called  to  them  in  terms 
which  they  understand.  The  Sensualistic  school  seems 
to  admit,  by  the  character  of  the  objections,  that  if  the 
mind  have  principles  which  do  fairly  meet  these  three 
tests,  then  they  will  be  proved  really  intuitive.  But 
they  object,  those  beliefs  do  not  meet  the  first  test,  for 
they  are  experimentally  learned  by  every  man,  in  the 
course  of  his  own  observation,  like  all  inductive  truths. 
And  here  they  advance  the  plea  of  their  amiable  leader, 
Locke:  that  there  are  sundry  axioms,  whose  formal 
announcement  in  words  to  inexperienced  minds,  instead 
of  securing  their  immediate  assent,  would  evoke  only  a 
vacant  stare.  We  have  to  present  experimental  in- 
stances of  the  truth,  in  concrete  cases,  before  we  gain 
their  intelligent  assent.  Does  not  this  prove  that  the 
truth  is  learned  experimentally? 

But  why  is  the  experimental  instance  the  occasion  of 
this  mind's  seeing  the  necessary  truth  ?  It  is  only  be- 
cause the  concrete  case  is  the  means  which  enables  him 
to  apprehend  the  real  meaning  of  your  abstract  enunci- 
ation. This  his  nwnd  had  not  hitherto  grasped,  by 
reason  either  of  inattention,  indifference,  or  the  lack  of 
familiarity  with  general  and  philosophic  terms.  How 
vain  is  the  argument,  that,  because  this  mind  did  not 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  259 

see  a  given  truth,  while  as  yet  the  verbal  medium  of  in- 
tellection was  darkness,  therefore  such  truth  cannot  be 
the  object  of  direct  mental  vision?  Because  my  child 
is  not  willing  to  affirm  which  of  two  "  pigs  in  a  poke  v 
is  the  bigger,  it  shall  be  decided  forsooth,  that  the  child 
is  blind,  or  that  pigs  are  not  visible  beings? 

Now,  against  this  idleness  of  talk,  we  demonstrate, 
by  proof  as  empirical  and  u  positive ''  as  that  of  the  Pos-  . 
itivistfor  any  law  of  physics,  that  the  observation  of  the 
experimental  cases  is  not,  and  cannot  be  the  cause  of 
the  intuitive  conviction :  it  is  only  the  occasion.  Let 
us  grant  just  such  a  case  as  Locke  claims  against  us: 
We  meet  an  ignorant,  heedless,  sleepy  servant,  and  we 
ask:  My  Boy,  if  two  magnitudes  be  equal  each  to  a  ' 
third  magnitude,  must  they  be  equal  to  each  other? 
He  will  probably  answer  only  by  a  vacant  look,  or  a  ' 
profession  of  total  ignorance  about  it.  Our  words  are 
not  in  his  ordinary  vocabulary  ;  the  idea  is  out  of  his 
ordinary  range  of  reflection,  though  he  has  in  fact  often 
acted  upon  it ;  as  in  cutting  four  sticks  for  his  par- 
tridge-trap, by  one  measure,  when  he  designed  them 
to  be  all  equal.  We  tell  him  then,  to  fetch  three  twigs 
from  the  hedge,  and  we  will  explain.  Name  them  by 
numbers  I,  2,  3.  Tell  him  to  take  his  pocket-knife  and 
cut  No.  i  and  No.  2  of  equal  length  ;  and  then  lay  No. 
i  on  yonder  stone.  Then  let  him  cut  No.  3  equal  to 
No.  2.  Ask  him  then:  "Now,  Boy,  consider:  if  you 
should  bring  No.  I  from  the  stone  yonder,  and  measure 
it  against  No.  3,  do  you  think  you  would  find  them 
equal  in  length?"  If  you  have  succeeded  in  getting 
his  real  attention,  he  will  reply  confidently  :  "  Yes,  Sir, 
they  will  be  found  equal."  "Are  you  certain  of  it?" 
"  Yes,  Sir,  perfectly  certain."  "  Had  you  not  better 
fetch  No.  i,  and  try  them  together,  before  you  decide  ?" 
"  No,  Sir:  it  is  unnecessary."  "  Why  are  you  so  cer- 
tain?" "Why,  Sir:  did  I  not  cut  No.  I,  and  No.  3, 
both  by  No.  2?  They  must  be  equal:  it  cannot  be 


260  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

otherwise."  Let  the  student  notice  here,  that  there 
has  been  no  experimental  trial  of  the  equality  of  the  first 
and  third  twigs  in  length  :  hence  it  is  simply  impossible 
that  the  servant's  confidence  can  result  from  experi- 
ment. It  is  the  immediate  intuition  of  his  reason,  be- 
cause there  is,  absolutely,  no  other  source  for  it.  Ob- 
viously, therefore,  the  only  real  use  for  the  knife  and 
the  three  twigs  was  to  illustrate  the  terms  of  the  propo- 
sition to  the  ignorant  apprehension  of  the  boy.  Notice 
also,  that  now  he  has  gotten  the  idea,  he  is  just  as  con- 
fident of  the  truth  of  the  axiom,  concerning  all  possible 
quantities  of  which  he  has  conception,  as  though  he 
had  tested  it  on  all  by  experiment.  This  suggests  the 
further  argument,  that  our  intuitive  convictions  cannot 
be  from  experiment,  because,  as  we  shall  see,  we  all 
hold  them  for  universal  truths:  but  each  man's  experi- 
ence is  limited.  The  first  time  a  child  ever  divides  an 
apple,  and  sees  that  either  part  is  smaller  than  the 
whole,  he  is  as  certain  that  the  same  thing  will  be  true 
of  all  possible  bodies,  as  well  as  of  apples,  as  though  he 
had  spent  ages  in  dividing  apples,  peaches,  melons, 
sweetmeats,  acorns,  and  everything  that  came  to  his 
hand.  Now,  how  can  a  universal  truth  flow  experi- 
mentally from  a  single  case  ?  Were  this  the  source  of 
belief,  the  greatest  multitude  of  experiments  which 
could  be  made  in  a  life-time,  could  never  be  enough  to 
demonstrate  the  rule,  for  the  number  of  possible  cases 
still  untried  would  yet  be  infinitely  greater.  Experi- 
ence of  the  past,  by  itself,  does  not  determine  the  fu- 
ture. 

Moreover,  sundry  intuitive  truths  are  incapable  of 
being  experimentally  inferred,  because  the  cases  can 
never  be  brought  under  the  purview  of  the  senses. 
"  Divergent  straight  lines,"  we  are  sure,  "  will  never 
enclose  any  space,  though  infinitely  produced."  Now, 
who  has  ever  inspected  an  infinite  straight  line  with  his 
eyes?  The  escape  from  this  refutation  laboriously  at- 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions,  261 

tempted  by  J.  S.  Mill  is  this :  One  forms  a  mental  dia- 
gram of  that  part  of  the  divergent  pair  of  lines  which 
lies  beyond  his  ocular  inspection  (beyond  the  edge  of 
the  largest  actual  sheet  of  paper,  or  board,  or  other 
surface,  on  which  he  has  drawn  lines),  and  by  the  mental 
inspection  of  this  part,  he  satisfies  himself  that  they  do 
not  meet.  And  this  mental  inspection  of  the  conceptual 
diagram  is,  says  he,  as  properly  experimental  as  though 
it  were  made  on  a  material  surface.  On  this  queer 
subterfuge  we  might  remark,  that  it  is  more  refreshing 
to  us,  than  consistent  fo  *  them,  to  find  Sensualists  or 
Positivists  admitting  that  the  abstract  ideas  of  the 
mind  can  be  subjects  of  experimental  observation.  We 
h^d  been  told  all  along,  that  science  dealt  only  with 
phenomena.  It  i.s  also  news  to  us,  that  Sensualism  can 
consistently  admit  any  power  of  conceiving  infinite 
ideas  in  our  minds.  What  are  these  but  those  naughty 
things,  metaphysical  notions,  with  which  the  inteT- 
gence  cannot  possibly  have  any  business,  because  they 
are  not  given  to  it  in  sensation?  But,  chiefly,  Mill's 
evasion  is  worthless  in  the  presence  of  this  question  : 
How  do  we  know  that  the  straight  lines  in  the  concep- 
tual and  infinite  part  of  this  imaginary  diagram,  will 
have  the  identical  property  possessed  by  the  visible 
parts  on  the  black-board?  What  guides  and  compels 
,  the  intelligence  to  this  notion?  Not  sense,  surely  ;  for 
it  is  the  part  of  the  conceptual  diagram  which  no  eye 
will  ever  see.  It  is  just  the  reason's  own  h  priori  and 
intuitive  power.  Deny  this,  as  Mill  does,  and.  the  be- 
lief, which  all  know  to  be  solid,  becomes  baseless. 

In  a  word,  this  question  betrays  how  inconsistent  the 
Sensualist  is,  in  attempting  to  derive  first  truths  from 
sensational  experience,  and  ignoring  the  primitive 
judgments  of  the  reason.  How  has  he  learned  that 
sensational  experience  is  itself  true?  Only  by  a  prim- 
itive judgment  of  the  reason!  Here,  then,  is  one  first 
belief  which  sense  cannot  have  taught  us,  to  wit :  that 


262  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

what  sense  shows  us  is  true.  So  impossible  is  it  to 
construct  any  system  of  cognitions,  while  denying  to 
the  reason  all  primary  power  of  judgment. 

When  we  propose  the  second  test:  that  intuitive 
judgments  are  always  necessary,  the  inquiry  is  embar- 
rassed by  raising  the  question,  What  is  meant  by  "  a 
necessary  truth  ? "  One  answers  (with  Whewell,  for 
instance),  that  it  is  a  truth  the  denial  of  which  involves 
a  contradiction.  It  is,  of  course,  easy  for  Mill  to  reply 
to  this  heedless  definition  that,  then,  every  truth  may 
claim  to  be  an  intuition  ;  for  is  not  contradiction  of 
some  truth -the  very  character  of  all  error?  If  one 
should  deny  that  the  two  angles  at  the  base  of  an 
isosceles  triangle  are  equal,  he  could  soon  be  taught 
that  this  denial  contradicted  an  admitted  property  of 
triangles.  (And  this,  indeed,  is  one  usual  way  by  which 
we  establish  deduced  truths.)  I  affirm,  then,  the  defi- 
nition of  common  sense;  that  a  necessary  truth  is  one 
the  denial  of  which  is  immediately  self-contradictory. 
Not  only  would  the  denial  clash  with  other  truths  and 
other  axioms,  but  it  would  contradict  something  in  the 
terms  of  the  case  itself,  and  this,  according  to  the  im- 
mediate, intuitive  view  which  .the  mind  has.  Does  not 
every  one  know  that  his  mind  has  such  judgments, 
necessary  in  this  sense?  When  he  says  :  "  The  whole 
must  be  greater  than  either  of  its  parts,"  his  mind  sees 
intuitively  and  unavoidably,  that  the  assertion  of  the 
contrary  would  contradict  the  very  term  "  parts,"  as 
belonging  to  the  case.  Who  does  not  see  that  this 
maxim  is  inevitable  to  the  reason  in  a  different  sense 
from  the  two  following  statements:  "  The  natives  of 
England  are  white  ;  those  of  Guinea,  black."  These  two 
are  just  as  true  as  the  axiom  ;  but  not  in  the  same  sense 
necessary. 

Or,  if  Whewell  answers  the  question,  "  What  is 
necessary  truth  ?  "  it  is  a  proposition  the  falsehood  of 
which  is  "  inconceivable."  Mill  replies,  that  this  is  no 


Origin  of  A-Priori  Notions.  263 

test  of  the  primariness  of  truth  ;  no  test  of  truth  at  all ; 
because  our  capacity  of  conceiving  things  to  be  possible 
or  not  depends,  notoriously,  upon  our  mental  habits, 
associations,  and  acquirements.  He  points  to  the  fact, 
that  all  Cartesians,  and  even  Leibnitz,  objected  against 
Sir  Isaac  Newton's  theory  of  gravitation  and  orbitual 
motion,  when  first  propounded,  that  it  was  "  incon- 
ceivable "  how  a  body  propelled  by  its  own  momentum, 
should  fail  to  move  on  a  tangent,  unless  connected  with 
the  centre  of  motion  by  some  substantial  bond.  There 
is  a  truth  in  this  and  similar  historical  facts.  It  is,  that 
the  antecedent  probability  of  the  truth  of  a  statement 
to  our  minds,  depends  very  greatly  upon  our  habits  of 
thought.  And  the  practical  lesson  it  should  teach  us  is 
moderation  in  dogmatizing,  and  candor  in  investigat- 
ing. But,  for  all  this,  the  evasion  will  be  found  a  ver- 
bal quibble,  substituting  another  meaning  for  the  word 
"  inconceivable."  We  do  not  call  a  truth  necessary 
because,  negatively,  we  lack  the  capacity  to  conceive 
the  actual  opposite  thereof;  but  because,  positively,  we 
are  able  to  see  that  the  denial  of  the  truth  involves  a 
self-evident  and  immediate  contradiction.  It  is  not 
that  we  cannot  conceive  how  the  opposite  comes  to  be 
true,  but  that  we  can  see  it  is  impossible  the  opposite 
should  come  to  be  true.  And  this  is  wholly  another 
thing.  The  fact  that  some  truths  are  necessary  in  this 
self-evident  light,  every  fair  mind  reads  in  its  own  con- 
sciousness. 

When  we  come  to  the  third  test  of  first  truths,  that 
they  are  universal,  the  Sensualists  ring  many  changes 
on  the  assertion,  that  there  is  debate  which  are  first 
truths  ;  that  some  propositions  long  held  to  be  such,, 
are  now  found  to  be  not  axiomatic,  and  not  even  true,, 
such  as  these  :  "  Preexistent  material  is  as  necessary  to 
the  creative  act  as  a  Creator."  "  Nature  abhors  a 
vacuum"  "  A  material  body  cannot  directly  act  save 
where  it  is  present."  The  answer  is,  that  all  this  proves, 


264  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

not  that  the  human  mind  is  no  instrument  for  the  in- 
tuition of  truth,  but  that  it  is  an  imperfect  one.  The 
same  line  of  objection  would  prove  with  equal  fairness 
(or  unfairness),  that  empirical  truths  have  no  inferen- 
tial validity  ;  for  the  disputes  and  errors  here  have  been 
a  thousand  fold  wider.  Man  orten  thinks  incautiously ; 
he  is  partially  blinded  by  prejudice,  habit,  association, 
hypothesis,  so  that  he  has  blundered  a  few  times  as  to 
first  truths,  and  is  constantly  blundering  myriads  of 
times  as  to  derived  truths,  in  which  the  terms  of  the 
cognition  are  more  numerous  and  intricate.  What 
then  ?  Shall  we  conclude  that  he  has  no  real  intuition 
of  first  truths?  Then  by  this  conclusion  we  compel 
ourselves  to  admit,  by  proof  reinforced  a  thousand 
fold,  that  still  less  has  he  any  means,  intuitive  or  em- 
pirical, for  ascertaining  derived  truths.  This  is  blank 
scepticism.  It  finds  its  practical  refutation  in  the  fact 
that,  amidst  all  his  blindness,  man  does  ascertain  many 
truths,  the  benefits  of  which  we  actually  possess.  No. 
The  conclusion  of  common  sense  is,  that  we  should 
take  care  when  we  think.  But  the  fact  remains,  that 
there  are  axiomatic  truths  which  no  sane  man  disputes, 
or  can  dispute ;  which  command  universal  and  imme- 
diate credence,  when  intelligently  inspected ;  which 
we  see  must  be  true  in  all  possible  cases  which  come 
within  their  terms.  For  instance  :  every  sane  human 
being  sees,  by  the  first  intelligent  look  of  his  mind,  that 
any  whole  must  be  greater  than  one  of  its  own  parts  ; 
and  this  must  be  true  of  all  possible  wholes  in  the  uni- 
verse, which,  in  any  form  whatsoever,  come  within  the 
category  of  quantity.  Is  it  not  just  the  fact  that  man 
is  a  reasonable  creature,  which  makes  the  proposition 
universal?  One  man  can  reason  with  another  man,  and 
convince  him.  There  is  some  uniformity  among  the 
conclusions  of  all  different  minds,  just  as  there  is  among 
their  sense-perceptions.  In  neither  case  is  it  perfect. 
Some  men  are  affected  with  color-blindness,  and  call 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  265 

that  blue  which  I  call  green.  But  yet,  when  I  see  a 
larger  horse  beside  a  smaller  horse,  I  also  ascertain  that 
my  neighbor  thinks  the  same  horse  larger  which  I  think 
the  larger  ;  and  that  he  never  sees  that  to  be  an  ox  which 
I  see  to  be  a  horse.  In  like  manner,  I  find  that  the  chain 
of  propositions  which  convinced  me  that  the  sum  of  the 
three  angles  in  every  triangle  is  equal  to  two  right 
angles,  also  convinces  all  other  people,  who  attend  to 
them  and  understand  the  terms.  Here,  now,  is  a  great 
class  of  facts  of  observation.  There  must  be  a  ground 
for  the  uniformity,  else  the  uniformity  would  not  be. 
That  cause  of  uniformity,  again,  must  be  in  human 
minds  ;  because  it  is  there  we  find  the  results.  What 
is  it  except  universal  a  priori  laws  of  the  reason  ?  This 
is  too  plain  to  need  elaboration.  It  is  just  these  innate, 
common,  a  priori,  regulative  laws  of  human  thought, 
ensuring  the  rise,  wherever  the  appropriate  conditions 
exist,  of  the  same  primitive  judgments  in  all  minds;  it 
is  these  alone  which  make  communion  of  thought  pos- 
sible, which  enable  us  to  communicate  truth  from  mind 
to  mind ;  and  which  ground  that  (incomplete)  harmony 
of  human  convictions,  without  which  education,  gov- 
ernment, cooperation,  law,  and  society  itself,  would  be 
impossible. 

An  instructive  proof  of  the  error  committed  by  Sen- 
sualism, in  denying  h  priori  judgments  to  the  reason, 
is  found  in  the  perplexity  to  which  it  is  reduced,  in  at- 
tempting to  explain  the  logical  force  of  the  syllogism. 
Let  us  see  how  three  of  the  ablest  and  least  extreme  of 
Sensualists  flounder  in  this  slough  of  self-contradic- 
tions :  Locke,  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  and  J.  S.  Mill.  They 
all  substantially  agree  in  asserting  that  every  regular 
syllogism  is  a  petitio  principii.  Does  not  every  follower 
of  Aristotle,  say  they  :  tell  us,  that  if  anything  is  con- 
tained in  the  conclusion  which  is  not  found  in  the 
premises,,  the  syllogism  is  vicious?  Then,  the  mind 
must  have  known  the  conclusion  in  order  to  be  author- 


266  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ized  to  enounce  the  major  premise  (which  is  the  inclu- 
sive one).  Hence,  they  urge,  either  the  regular  syllo- 
gism leads  to  nothing,  and  is  worthless,  or  it  begs  the 
question.  They  are  fond  of  taking  such  instances  as 
this  :  "  All  men  are  mortal.  Socrates  is  a  man.  There- 
fore Socrates  is  mortal."  Now  say  they  :  unless  it  has 
been  ascertained  that  Socrates  is  mortal,  the  assertion 
that  all  men  are  mortal,  is  unwarrantable.  But  when 
once  it  has  been  ascertained  that  Socrates  is  mortal,  we 
need  no  syllogism  to  prove  it  over  again :  the  pre- 
tended logical  process  is  either  utterly  superfluous,  or 
it  is  a  petitio  principii.  Thus  stands  one  side  of  the 
puzzle. 

But,  on  the  other  side,  nobody  can  succeed  in  show- 
ing any  other  valid  way  of  inferential  reasoning.  From 
Aristotle  down  to  our  day,  the  vast  majority  of  think- 
ing men  have  been  convinced,  that  the  syllogism  does 
contain  the  correct  account  of  our  inferential  processes. 
Are  they  all  mistaken?  Mill  himself  (Logic,  Bk.  II., 
Chap.  2)  says  :  u  All  valid  ratiocination  ....  may 
be  exhibited  in  some  of  the  above  forms.  The  whole 
of  Euclid,  for  example,  might  be  thrown  without 
difficulty  into  a  series  of  syllogisms  regular  in  mode 

and   figure." "All  correct  ratiocination 

admits  of  being  stated  in  syllogisms  of  the  first  figure 
alone."  Locke  and  Brown,  following  him,  propose, 
that  after  throwing  away  the  syllogism  as  worthless, 
we  shall  depend  upon  the  enthymcme  (or  sorites],  as  con- 
taining the  whole  account  of  valid  inferential  processes. 
But  it  is  the  easiest  of  victories  to  show,  that  the  enthy- 
meme  is  only  valid,  because  it  contains  a  tacit  reference 
to  the  sanction  of  a  major  premise,  which  is  not  stated, 
and  yet  is  assumed.  We  have  only  to  put  the  question  : 
why  does  this  conclusion  in  this  enthymeme  follow 
from  this  minor  premise,  in  order  to  compel  a  recur- 
rence to  the  assumed  major?  Let  us  take  the  simple 
and  homely  instance  already  described  :  the  ignorant 


Origin  of  A-Priori  Notions.  267 

servant  who  had  never  consciously  stated  to  himself  in 
scientific  form,  the  axiom  that  magnitudes,  which  are 
equal  to  a  third,  must  be  equal  to  each  other.  He  is 
about  to  construct  a  trap  for  partridges ;  and  he  tells 
us  that  his  purpose  is  to  make  it  four-square,  with  equal 
sides.  Watch  him.  He  cuts  four  laths,  using  the  first 
alone  as  a  measure  of  length  for  the  other  three,  and 
proceeds  with  confidence  to  begin  his  construction. 
We  will  stop  him,  and  ask  :  Did  you  not  design  the 
four  sides  to  be  of  equal  length  ?  Are  you  certain  that 
each  of  those  laths  is  equal  to  each  of  the  others  ?  You 
have  not  measured  them  all:  He  will  perhaps  pause  a 
moment  to  reflect ;  but  he  will  answer  with  confidence  : 
UI  measured  each  of  them  by  the  same.''  Thus  he 
shows  that  the  axiom,  though  not  consciously  shaped 
in  words  to  his  own  attention  before,  was  yet  the  real 
basis  of  his  confidence.  Let  us,  again,  take  Locke's  own 
instance,  from  his  4th  Book,  Sec.  10,  where,  disdain- 
fully discarding  the  syllogism,  he  asserts  that  the  en- 
thymeme  is  the  sufficient  account  of  our  reasonings. 
"A  just  God  will  punish  men  for  their  evil  works: 
Therefore  men  have  free  choice."  Why  does  this  con- 
clusion :  that  men  have  free  choice,  flow  from  the  fact, 
that  a  just  God  will  punish  their  sins?  Only  because 
it  is  assumed  that  we  are,  of  course,  agreed  upon  an- 
other judgment  ;  namely  :  that  freedom  is  essential  to  re- 
sponsibility. Unless  that  is  virtually  in  the  mind,  the 
conclusion  is  not  seen  as  certainly  true.  So  that  after 
all,  the  full  statement  of  the  illation  must  take  this  form. 

Freedom  in  the  agent  is  necessary  to  a  just  responsi- 
bility. 

God  (who  is  just)  will  hold  men  responsible. 

Therefore  men  are  free  agents. 

No  better  proof  need  be  desired  than  we  find  from 
Locke's  own  instance. 

Mill,  after  conceding  that  every  regular  syllogism  is 
a  begging  of  the  question,  endeavors  to  solve  his  own 


268  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

inconsistency,  and  to  explain  the  nature  of  logical  in- 
ference, by  saying  that  we  do  not  conclude  from  a 
major  premise,  but  according  to  a  major  premise  ;  which 
is  a  mere  convenience,  of  the  nature  of  a  formula,  for 
recording  our  own  particular  observations  in  classes. 
He  declares,  that  all  reasoning  is  "from  particulars  to 
particulars."  Let  us  hear  his  own  example:  The  Aris- 
totlean  would  infer,  as  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
[who  was  alive  when  Mill  wrote]:  "All  men  are  mor- 
tal :  The  Duke  is  a  man :  Therefore  the  Duke  will 
prove  mortal." 

Now,  says  Mill,  the  Duke's  mortality  is  not  an  infer- 
ence from  the  universal  proposition,  that  all  men  are 
mortal  ;  because  his  mortality  must  first  be  settled  be- 
fore that  proposition  is  proved  to  be  universal.  All 
that  we  have  to  infer  from,  is  the  particular  instances 
in  which  we  have  found  John,  Thomas,  and  other  men 
mortal.  Our  reasoning  is  from  particulars  to  particu- 
lars: and- if  we  ever  bring  in  the  major  premise,  the 
general  proposition,  it  is  merely  for  convenience  of 
referring  to  the  result  of  our  own  particular  experi- 
ences. But  this  is  almost  transparently  erroneous. 
We  are  not  entitled  to  conclude  certainly  from  particu- 
lars to  another  particular.  Sometimes  we  may  :  often- 
times we  may  not.  How  shall  we  know  when  we  may, 
and  when  we  may  not?  Onlv  the  major  premise  can 
answer  this  question.  Thus:  let  us  suppose  a  common 
Englishman  arguing:  John,  Thomas,  and  all  the  men 
I  have  seen  die,  died  worth  less  than  twenty  thousand 
pounds:  Therefore  the  Duke  of  Wellington  will  die 
worth  less  than  that  sum.  Or  this  :  John,  Thomas,  and 
all  the  men  I  know,  died  under  eighty  years  of  age: 
Therefore  the  Duke  must  die  under  eighty  years  of  age. 

These  inferences  of  particulars  from  particulars  are 
precisely  as  regular  in  form  as  Mills' ;  yet  no  English- 
man is  foolish  enough  to  reason  from  his  particular  ex- 
periences thus.  Why?  Because,  notwithstanding  his 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  269 

own  personal  experiences,  he  knows  that  there  is  no 
universal,  necessary  ground,  limiting  all  men's  fortunes 
to  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  their  years  to  eighty. 
The  major  premise  is  lacking.  Thus,  Mills'  solution 
foils. 

Here,  then,  is  the  inextricable  difficulty  in  which 
these  Sensualistic  philosophers  have  involved  them- 
selves ;  they  prove  that,  regarding  all  general  truths 
as  mere  truths  of  observation,  the  syllogism  is  nothing 
but  a  petitio  principii.  It  is  proved,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  the  syllogism  is  the  only  valid  form  of  illation. 
Has  man,  then,  no  real  reasoning  powers?  The  true 
solution  is  one  of  which  the  radical  error  of  Sensualism 
has  deprived  them.  Notice,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
major  premise  in  the  trite  example,  "  All  men  are  mor- 
tal,'"' etc.,  is  a  proposition  expressing  only  an  analytic 
judgment.  Mortality  is  but  one  of  the  attributes  which 
we  have  agreed  to  combine  in  the  general  term,  man. 
When  we  affirm  mortality  of  man,  we  only  affirm  that 
it  is  one  of  the  attributes  the  term  man  connotes.  It  is 
perfectly  true,  that  a  combination  of  another  particular 
premise  (Socrates  is  a  man)  with  such  a  merely  analytic 
judgment,  can  never  give  us  a  real  extension  of  our 
knowledge :  it  can  do  no  more  than  expound  to  us 
what  was  implicit  in  our  own  general  proposition. 
Hence  the  whole  plausibility  of  the  cavils  against  syl- 
logisms. Farther:  were  that  true  which  Sensualism 
asserts,  that  the  mind  has  no  apriori  judgments  of  nec- 
essary truth  :  and  that  it  has  no  other  way  to  construct 
general  propositions  than  the  experiential,  by  colligat- 
ing particular  experiences :  then  it  would  be  perfectly 
true  that  the  syllogism  would  be  a  petitio principii.  The 
argument  of  Locke,  Brown,  and  Mill  on  this  point 
would  be  unanswerable.  If  I  had  no  way  to  reach  the 
universal  proposition,  "  All  men  are  mortal,"  than  by 
observing  the  death  of  each  and  every  man  ;  then  it  is 
perfectly  true  that  I  must  be  certain  Socrates  is  mortal, 


270  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

before  I  am  certain  that  "  All  men  are  mortal."  [And 
another  thing  would  be  equally  true:  that  I  should 
never  get  any  solid  universal  truths  at  all,  without 
being  omniscient  and  ubiquitous,  by  pursuing  this 
method.  And  this  is  the  same  thing  as  to  say  that,  on 
this  method,  the  finite  mind  of  man  never  could  have 
any  certain  knowledge  of  general  truths.]  Here  the 
Sensualist  is  left  in  the  slough  of  his  hopeless  difficulty. 
But  the  true  solution  is  in  the  fact  that  Sensualism  is 
false  ;  that  man  has  another  way  of  knowing  necessary 
truths,  than  empirical  observation  ;  and  that  thus  he 
has  other  than  mere  analytic  judgments.  To  use  the 
language  of  Kant,  who  has  expressed  this  fundamental 
truth  more  clearly  than  any  philosopher,  the  reason 
also  has  its  synthetic  judgments  a  priori.  It  cognizes 
necessary  universal  truths,  in  advance  of  observation 
of  instances  coming  under  them.  It  is  these  a  priori 
judgments  that*  become  the  major  premises  of  syllo- 
gisms which  lead  us,  by  illation,  to  conclusions  that  are 
a  real  extension  of  our  knowledge,  without  a  pctitio 
principii.  To  state  this  all -important  truth  in  other 
terms :  Grant  us  necessary  ^  priori  judgments  of  the 
reason,  and  we  can  comply  with  the  just  rule,  that  the 
conclusion  shall  contain  nothing  except  what  is  in- 
cluded in  the  premises,  and  yet  the  conclusion  shall  be 
a  real  advancement  of  our  knowledge.  Deny  us  those 
a  priori  judgments,  and  we  cannot.  An  illustration  will 
make  this  plain  ;  and  I  desire  none  better  than  the  one  I 
have  already  borrowed  from  Locke,  to  use  against  him. 
He  wished  us  to  infer,  by  a  naked  enthymeme,  that  be- 
cause a  just  God  will  punish  men's  sins,  therefore  they 
are  free.  We  admitted  the  conclusion  ;  but  we  found, 
on  inspection,  that  it  was  only  valid  by  virtue  of  a  tacit 
reference  to  another  proposition  :  this,  namely,  that 
freedom  is  essential  to  a  just  responsibility.  This  last 
is,  in  fact,  the  major  premise.  But  how  are  we  certain 
of  it  ?  Not  by  observation  :  not  by  experience  ;  it  is 


Origin  of  A-Priori  Notions.  271 

an  a  priori  moral  judgment  of  the  reason  ;  in  other 
words,  an  intuition  of  conscience.  It  is  for  this  reason 
that  we  have,  in  this  instance,  not  only  the  form  or 
shell  of  a  syllogism,  but  a  real  synthesis  of  truth  to 
truth,  and  a  real  extension  of  conviction  in  the  con- 
clusion. It  is  because  the  mind  has  a  priori  judgments 
that  it  can  reason  fruitfully.  In  saying  this,  all  utility 
is  not  denied  to  the  other,  the  fruitless  kind  of  syllo- 
gism. It  is  often  useful  to  the  mind,  to  reassure  and 
correct  itself,  by  thus  analyzing  the  contents  of  its  own 
general  propositions.  Even  the  old  threadbare  instance  : 
"All  men  are  mortal  ;  A  is  a  man  ;  therefore,  etc.," 
might  have  its  actual  utility.  When  the  ferocious 
Cortez  was  storming  the  city  of  Mexico,  the  Aztecs 
were  almost  paralyzed,  in  their  resistance,  by  the  sup- 
position that  their  assailant  was  immortal  and  invulner- 
able. (They  did  not  understand  the  secret  of  plate 
armor.)  Suppose,  now,  that  this  superstition  was  about 
to  discourage  all  effort ;  that  they  were  about  to  con- 
clude it  was  useless  to  bend  a  bow  or  thrust  a  spear 
against  him,  because  he  could  not  be  killed  ?  It  might, 
then,  be  very  practically  useful  to  them  to  reassure 
themselves  by  remembering  that  he  was  a  man,  and, 
therefore,  mortal ;  so  that  it  was  not  impossible,  if  dif- 
ficult, by  a  courageous  defence  of  their  homes,  to  de- 
stroy the  wicked  assailant. 

But  be  it  understood  that  we  do  not  limit  the  value 
of  deductive  reasonings  to  this  low  grade.  It  is  an 
organ  for  the  positive  extension  of  man's  knowledge  ; 
but  it  is  such  only  on  condition  we  grant  to  the  mind 
some  synthetic  h  priori  judgments  to  begin  with,  and 
to  combine  with  truths  of  mere  observation.  Our 
point,  then,  is  this:  that  the  fundamental  error  of  the 
Sensualistic  philosophy  leaves  its  advocates  between 
the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  Assert  that  we  have  no  cog- 
nitions, except  the  experiential,  by  the  senses  :  and  the 
demonstration  of  the  Sensualists  against  the  syllogism 


272  Scnsualistic  Philosophy. 

is  valid  ;  it  is  a  begging  of  the  question.  Yet  there  is 
no  other  explanation,  than  the  syllogistic,  of  the  validity 
of  our  inferences  !  Either,  then,  Sensualism  is  errone- 
ous, or  it  is  impossible  for  man  to  learn  anything  new 
by  inference. 

The  most  mischievous  assertion  of  Sensualism  against 
our  intuitive  judgments  is  the  denial  to  the  mind  of 
any  immediate  a  priori  cognition  of  causation  and  power. 
This,  then,  is  the  vital  head  of  our  debate.  The  correct 
doctrine  here  is,  that  when  we  see  an  effect,  we  in- 
tuitively refer  it  to  a  cause,  as  that  which  produces  its 
occurrence.  And  this  cause  is  necessarily  conceived 
as  having  a  power  to  produce  it  under  the  circumstances. 
For  it  is  impossible  for  the  reason  to  think  that  nothing 
can  evolve  something.  Nothing  results  only  in  nothing. 
But  the  effect  could  not  have  produced  its  own  occur- 
rence, for  this  would  imply  that  it  acted  before  it  ex- 
isted. Hence,  also,  the  reason  makes  this  inevitable 
first  inference,  that  the  power  of  that  cause  will  produce 
the  same  effect  which  we  saw,  if  all  the  circumstances 
are  the  same.  But  Sensualism  asserts  that  the  mind  is 
entitled  to  predicate  no  tie  between  cause  and  effect, 
save  immediate,  invariable  antecedence  and  sequence 
as  observed,  because  this  is  all  the  senses  observe,  and 
"Nihil  in  intellectu  quod  non  prius  in  sensu"  The  in- 
ference that  the  like  cause  will  in  future  be  followed  by 
the  like  effect,  is,  according  to  them,  an  empirical  result 
only  from  repeated  observations,  to  which  the  mind  is 
led  by  habit  and  association. 

Now,  my  first  remark  is,  that  only  Sensualism  could 
be  guilty  of  arguing  that  there  can  be  no  real  tie  of 
causation,  because  all  that  the  senses  see  is  an  imme- 
diate sequence.  The  absurdity  (and  the  intended  drift 
also)  of  such  arguing  appears  thus  :  that  by  the  same 
notable  sophism  there  is  no  soul,  no  God,  no  abstract 
truth,  no  substance,  even  in  matter,  but  only  a  bundle 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  273 

of  properties.  For  did  our. senses  ever  see  any  of  these  ? 
How  often  must  one  repeat  the  obvious  fact,  that  if 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  mind,  it  also  has  its  own  prop- 
erties ;  it  also  is  capable  of  being  a  cause  ;  it  also  can 
produce  cognitions  according  to  the  law  of  its  nature, 
when  sense  furnishes  the  occasion  ?  Sensation  informs 
us  of  the  presence  of  the  effect :  the  reason,  accord- 
ing to  its  own  imperative  law,  cognizes  power  in  the 
cause. 

It  is  extremely  easy  to  demonstrate,  and  that  by  a 
"positive  method,"  that  this  notion  of  causation  cannot 
be  accounted  for  merely  as  a  case  of  "  inseparable  asso- 
ciation." Mental  association  of  a  pair  of  phenomena  is 
not  the  source,  but  the  consequence  of  the  notion.  We 
all  see  certain  "  immediate,  invariable  sequences"  re- 
curring before  us  with  perfect  uniformity,  yet  we  never 
dream  of  imputing  a  causative  tie.  We  see  other 
sequences  twice  or  thrice,  and  we  are  certain  the  tie 
of  power  is  there.  Light,  for  instance,  has  followed 
darkness,  just  as  regularly  as  light  has  followed  the 
approach  of  the  sun.  Nobody  dreams  that  darkness 
causes  light :  everybody  is  convinced  that  the  sun  does 
cause  it.  It  thus  appears,  experimentally,  that  asso- 
ciation has  not  taught  us  the  notion  of  cause  ;  but  that 
our  knowledge  of  cause  corrects  our  associations,  and 
controls  their  formation. 

Every  effect  is  a  change.  It  is  familiar  to  the  com- 
mon sense  of  every  one  that  many  changes  result  neces- 
sarily from  their  antecedents.  For  instance,  all  divi- 
sion of  magnitudes  results  inevitably  in  the  diminution 
of  the  parts,  as  compared  with  the  whole.  It  is  impos- 
sible that  any  part  can  remain  undiminished.  Or, 
again,  motion  of  one  or  two  bodies  at  rest  necessarily 
changes  the  distance  between  them.  It  is  impossible 
that  the  first  antecedent  shall  be,  and  the  second  change 
not  result.  It  is  unnecessary  to  multiply  instances. 
But  can  it  be  said  that  in  these  sequences  there  is  no 
18 


274  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

cause  ;  no  power?     Is  not  this  a  contradiction  ?   Surely 
that  which  necessitates  change  is  efficient  cause. 

The  subtile  and  yet  simple  reasoning  by  which  Kant's 
"  Critic  of  the  Pure  Reason  "  (Bk.  II.  Ch.  2,  §  3)  shows 
the  incorrectness  of  resolving  cause  and  effect  into 
mere  sequence,,  is  worthy  of  your  attention  here.  He 
cites  two  instances  :  In  one,  I  look  successively  at  the 
two  parts  of  a  large  house  over  the  way.  I  perceive, 
for  instance,  first  its  front,  and  then  its  end.  The  percep- 
tions, then,  are,  in  my  consciousness,  a  sequence.  But 
do  I  ever  think  for  a  moment,  although  the  thing  may 
have  occurred  invariably  in  this  sequence,  for  ever  so 
many  times,  that  the  being  of  the  end  is  consequent 
upon  the  being  of  the  front?  Never.  I  know  they  are 
simultaneous.  In  another  case,  I  see  a  vessel  in  the 
river  just  opposite  to  me;  and  next,  I  see  it  below  me. 
The  perceptions  are  not  more  successive  than  those  of 
the  two  faces  of  the  house.  But  can  I  ever  think  that 
the  two  positions  of  the  vessel  are  coetaneous?  No. 
But  why  ?  The  only  answer  is,  that  the  reason  has,  by 
its  intuition,  seen  effect  and  dependency  in  the  last 
pair  of  successive  perceptions,  which  were  not  in  the 
first  pair.  Ike  vessel  has  moved ;  the  change  of  posi- 
tion is  an  effect  of  this  antecedent.  The  other  instance 
is  drawn  from  those  numerous  causative  sequences  in 
which  no  interval  of  time  is  appreciable  by  the  senses. 
The  cause  A  and  the  effect  B  come  together.  Why  is 
it  that  the  mind  always  refuses  to  think  the  matter  so 
as  to  have  B  lead  A,  and  will  only  think  that  A  leads 
B  ?  Why  cannot  you  think  that  the  sound  of  the  blow 
caused  the  impact  of  the  hammer,  instead  of  thinking 
that  the  impact  caused  the  sound  ?  Why  do  not  people 
think  differently  about  this?  Surely  there  is  a  law  of 
the  reason  regulating  this :  and  the  mind  sees  that  the 
something  which  determines  the  order  of  the  sequence 
between  the  two  simultaneous  perceptions,  is  the  cog- 
nition of  power. 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions  275 

Men  are,  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  convinced  that  they 
have  found  an  invariable  law  of  cause  by  which  they 
can  know  that  a  certain  consequent  will  always  follow 
a  certain  set  of  antecedents.  What  else  is  practical 
science  ?  But  this  certainty  could  never  be  established 
by  the  mere  experience  of  the  sequence,  however  often. 
The  mere  empirical  induction  only  gives  a  probability. 
Were  there  no  a  priori  law  of  the  reason  to  guide  us, 
the  experience  of  the  past  would  only  demonstrate  the 
past :  there  would  be  no  logical  tie  authorizing  us  to 
project  our  expectation  upon  the  future.  We  ask  our 
opponents,  if  it  be  the  experience  of  numerous  instances, 
which  gives  us  certainty  of  a  future  recurrence,  how 
many  instances  will  effect  the  demonstration?  Is  their 
answer,  for  instance,  that  one  hundred  uniform  in- 
stances, and  no  fewer,  will  be  sufficient?  What,  then, 
is  the  difference  between  the  ninety-ninth  and  the 
hundredth  ?  According  to  the  supposition,  these  two 
instances  must  be  exactly  alike  ;  if  they  were  not,  the 
unlike  one  could  certainly  contribute  nothing  to  the 
proof,  for  it  would  be  exceptional.  Why  is  it,  then, 
that  the  ninety-nine  do  not  prove  a  law  of  cause,  while 
the  hundredth  instance,  exactly  similar  to  all  the  rest, 
does  ?  There  is  no  tenable  answer.  The  truth  is,  the 
reason  why  a  merely  empirical  induction  suggests  even 
a  probability  that  a  certain  oft-repeated  sequence  con- 
tains a  true,  law  of  cause  (which  is  all  it  can  do),  is  this  : 
Intuition  has  assured  us  that  the  sequent  event  must  have 
some  efficient  cause,  and  the  fact  which  experience  notes, 
that  the  precedent  observed  phenomenon  is  its  seeming 
next  antecedent,  indicates  a  presumption  that  this  may 
be  the  true  cause.  For  reason  has  taught  us  that  the  true 
cause  must  be  the  nearest  antecedent,  either  visible  or 
unnoticed.  But  there  may  be  another  still  nearer  ante- 
cedent not  yet  detected  ;  and  if  it  turns  out  that  there  is, 
this  will  have  to  be  accepted  instead  of  the  other,  as  the 
true  cause.  We,  therefore,  resort  to  some  test,  ground- 


276  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ed  on  the  intuitive  law  of  cause,  to  settle  this  doubt. 
Just  so  soon  as  that  doubt  is  solved,  if  it  be  by  one  ob- 
servation, the  mind  is  satisfied  ;  it  has  gotten  the  causa- 
tive antecedent;  it  is  now  assured  that  this  antecedent, 
if  arising  under  the  same  conditions,  will  certainly 
produce  this  consequent,  always  and  everywhere  ;  and 
if  this  test  be  lacking,  ten  thousand  uniform  instances 
will  generate  no  such  certainty.  Yea,  there  are  cases, 
in  which  the  conviction  of  causative  connection  is  fully 
established  by  one  trial,  when  the  circumstances  of  that 
one  trial  are  such  as  fully  to  assure  the  mind,  that  no 
other  undetected  antecedent  can  have  intervened  or 
accompanied  the  observed  one.  For  instance,  a  trav- 
eler plucks  and  tastes  a  fruit  of  inviting  color  and 
odor,  which  was  wholly  unknown  to  him  before.  The 
result  is  a  painful  excoriation  of  his  lips  and  palate. 
He  remembers  that  he  had  not  before  taken  into  his 
mouth  any  substance  whatever,  save  such  as  he  knew 
to  be  innocuous.  The  singleness  of  the  new  antece- 
dent enables  him  to  decide  that  it  must  have  been  the 
true  cause  of  his  sufferings.  That  man  thenceforward 
knows,  just  as  certainly,  that  this  fruit  is  noxious,  when- 
ever he  sees  it,  to  the  thousandth  instance,  without 
ever  tasting  it  a  second  time,  as  though  he  had  tasted 
and  suffered  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  times.  In- 
deed, as  Dr.  Chalm'ers  has  well  shown,  experience  is  so 
far  from  begetting  this  conviction  of  a  law  of  cause, 
that  its  usual  effect  is  to  correct  and  limit  it.  A  child 
strikes  its  spoon  or  knife  upon  the  table  for  the  first 
time  ;  the  result  is  sound,  in  which  children  so  much 
delight.  He  next  repeats  the  experiment  confidently 
upon  the  sofa-cushion  or  carpet,  but  his  confidence  is 
mistaken  ;  he  is,  perhaps,  vexed  at  his  failure  to  evoke 
any  sound.  Experience  did  not  generate,  but  correct, 
his  intuitive  confidence  that  the  same  cause  would  pro- 
duce the  same  effect ;  and  this,  not  by  refuting  the  prin- 
ciple, but  by  instructing  him  that  he  had  mistaken  the 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  277 

true  cause  of  sound.  He  now  finds  that  this  was  not, 
as  he  supposed,  mere  impact,  but  a  combination  of  this 
with  the  elasticity  of  the  thing  struck. 

The  truth,  that  no  mere  experience  of  a  sequence  is 
enough  to  authorize  us  in  believing  it  an  invariable  law, 
was  ingeniously  illustrated  by  the  "Calculating  Ma- 
chine "  of  Babbage.  The  machinery  could  be  so  ad- 
justed that  it  would  exhibit  successively,  through  a 
hole  in  its  dial  plate,  a  series  of  numbers  increasing  by 
a  given  ratio.  When  this  series  had  regularly  con- 
tinued until  the  spectator  was  wearied  with  watching 
it,  and  was  ready  to  conclude  that  it  expressed  the  un- 
changing law  of  the  machine,  it  would  change  the 
ratio,  without  an}^  new  adjustment  of  the  maker,  and 
continue  the  new  series.  Now,  if  a  regular  empirical 
induction  could  demonstrate  anything,  it  would  have 
done  it  here ;  yet  no  sooner  did  the  spectator  conclude 
that  he  had  thus  found  the  law,  than  he  was  refuted. 

J.  S.  Mill  himself  admits  expressly  what  Bacon  had 
taught  us,  that  this  induction  by  mere  enumeration 
of  instances  (Inductio  enumerationis  simplicis)  gives  no 
demonstration  of  a  causative  tie.  To  reach  the  latter, 
we  must  apply  some  canon  of  induction,  which  will 
discriminate  the  propter  hoc  from  the  post  hoc.  Does  not 
Mill  himself  propose  such  canons  ?  It  is  obvious  that 
the  logic  of  common  life,  by  which  plain  people  con- 
vert the  surmises  of  experience  into  available  certain- 
ties, is  but  the  application,  by  common  sense,  of  the 
same  canons.  Let  us  now  inspect  an  instance  of  such 
application,  and  we  shall  find  that  it  proceeds  at  every 
step  on  the  intuitive  law  of  cause  as  its  postulate.  Each 
part  of  the  reasoning  which  distinguishes  between  the 
seeming  antecedent  and  the  true  cause,  is  a  virtual  syl- 
logism, of  which  the  intuitive  truth  is  the  major  pre- 
mise. Let  us  select  a  very  simple  case:  the  student 
will  see,  if  he  troubles  himself  to  examine  the  other 
canons  of  induction,  that  they  admit  of  precisely  the 


278  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

same  analysis.  We  are  searching  for  the  true  cause  of 
an  effect  which  we  name  D.  We  cannot  march  directly 
to  it,  as  the  traveler  did  in  the  case  of  the  strange, 
poisonous  fruit,  because  we  cannot  procure  the  occur- 
rence of  the  change  D  with  only  a  single  antecedent. 
We  must,  therefore,  avail  ourselves  of  the  help  of  a 
canon  of  induction.  First,  we  construct  an  experiment 
in  which  we  contrive  the  certain  exclusion  of  all  ante- 
cedent phenomena  save  two,  which  we  will  name  A  and 
B.  It  still  remains  doubtful  which  of  these  produced 
the  effect  D,  or  whether  both  combined  to  do  it.  We 
contrive  a  second  experiment,  in  which  B  is  excluded, 
but  ?(.\\Q\XiQ.r  phenomenon,  which  we  will  call  C,  now  ac- 
companies A,  and  the  effect  D  again  follows.  Now  we 
can  get  the  truth.  Here  are  two  instances.  In  the 
first,  A  and  B  occurred  and  D  followed  immediately, 
all  other  antecedents  having  been  excluded.  The  in- 
ductive canon  now  proceeds,  that  therefore  the  cause 
of  D  is  either  A  or  B  or  the  two  combined.  But  why  ? 
Because  the  effect  D  must  have  had  its  immediate 
cause,  which  is  our  a  priori,  intuitive  postulate.  In  the 
second  instance,  A  and  C  occurred  together,  and  D 
followed.  Here,  again,  we  know  the  true  cause  must 
be  A  or  C,  or  the  two  combined.  Why  ?  For  the  same 
intuitive  reason.  But  in  the  first  instance,  C  could  not 
have  been  the  cause  of  D,  because  C  was  then  absent ; 
and  in  the  second  instance,  B  could  not  have  been 
cause,  for  it  was  then  absent.  Therefore  A  was  the 
true  cause  all  the  time.  Why  ?  Because  we  knew 
intuitively  that  every  effect  has  its  own  cause.  And 
now  having  ascertained  that  A  was  the  true  cause  in 
the  two  instances,  we  are  sure  that  if  all  other  condi- 
tions \remain  the  same,  A  will  produce  B  in  all  the 
future:  we  have  established  a  universal  law  of  cause. 
Why  is  it  that  two  instances  thus  verified,  have  done 
what  a  myriad  of  instances  of  mere  sequences,  however 
invariable,  could  never  have  done  ?  That  is  to  say,  two 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  279 

instances  have  grounded  a  true  induction,  which  au- 
thorizes us  to  project  our  confident  expectation  over 
the  whole  future,  and  to  predict  infallibly  what  effect 
will  follow  this  cause  A.  We  have  read  one  of  the 
secrets  of  nature  and  of  God.  How  ?  Only  because 
we  knew  from  the  first,  the  universal  law  of  the  reason, 
that  like  causes  must  produce  like  effects. 

It  thus  appears  that  the  intuitive  belief  in  this  prin- 
ciple is  essential,  beforehand,  to  enable  us  to  convert  an 
experimental  induction  into  a  demonstrated  general 
truth.  Can  any  demonstration  be  clearer  of  the  truth 
that  the  original  principle  itself  cannot  be  the  mere 
teaching  of  experience?  It  passes  human  wit  to  see 
how  a  logical  process  can  prove  its  own  premise,  when 
the  premise  is  what  proves  the  process.  Yet  this  ab- 
surdity Mill  gravely  attempts  to  explain.  His  solution 
is,  that  the  law  of  cause,  at  first  assumed  by  the  mind 
only  as  a  hypothesis  from  experimental  indications,  is 
found  to  be  "  an  empirical  law  coextensive  with  all 
human  experience."  May  we  conclude,  then,  that  a 
man  is  entitled  to  hold  the  law  of  cause  as  perfectly 
valid  only  after  he  has  acquired  "  all  human  experi- 
ence ?  "  This  question  dissolves  the  sophism  into  thin 
air.  It  is  experimentally  proved  that  this  is  not  the 
way  in  which  the  mind  comes  by  the  belief  of  this  law, 
because  no  man,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  ever  acquires 
all  human  experience,  but  only  a  part,  which,  relatively 
to  the  whole,  is  exceedingly  minute,  and  because  every 
man  believes  the  general  law  of  cause  when  he  begins 
to  acquire  experience.  If  he  did  not,  he  would  never 
learn  anything  by  his  experience,  which  was  a  general 
truth.  The  just  doctrine,  therefore,  is,  that  experi- 
enced instances  are  only  the  occasions  upon  which  the 
mind's  own  intuitive  power  pronounces  the  self-evident 
law. 

John  Stuart  Mill  is  of  the  Sensualistic  school  in  his 
logic.  He  is  the  accepted  philosopher  of  infidel 


280  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Radicalism  in  this  country  and  England.  The  student 
has.  in  the  above  specimens,  a  fair  taste  of  his  quality. 
With  much  learning  and  labor,  he  combines  subtlety 
and  dogmatism.  His  style,  like  his  thoughts,  includes 
the  extremes  of  intricacy  and  perspicuity.  He  can  be 
transparent  or  muddy,  as  suits  his  purpose.  When 
one  sees  the  confused  and  mazy  involutions  in  which 
he  entangles  the  plainest  propositions  that  are  un- 
friendly to  his  sensualistic  principles,  he  is  almost  ready 
to  suppose  him  the  honest  victim  of  these  erroneous 
postulates,  until  he  observes  the  astute  and  perspicuous 
adroitness  with  which  he  wrests  the  evidences  of  the 
truth  which  he  dislikes. 

But,  to  return  :  The  vindication  of  the  h  priori  valid- 
ity of  this  intuition  of  cause  deserves  all  the  care  it  has 
received.  It  is  the  most  important  of  our  primitive 
notions,  essential  at  once  to  all  human  science  and  to 
natural  theology.  It  is  the  very  key  to  the  study  of 
nature.  It  is,  to  change  the  figure,  the  corner-stone  to 
all  the  sciences  of  material  nature.  It  is,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  foundation  of  that  argument  for  the  being  of 
a  God,  drawn  from  his  works.  It  is  really  on  his  heresy 
about  causation  that  Hume  grounds  his  famous  argu- 
ment against  miracles.  It  is  on  the  same  error  he 
grounds  his  objection  against  our  teleological  argu- 
ment for  God's  existence,  that  the  world  is  a  "  singular 
effect." 

This  vindication  has  also,  I  think,  given  the  student 
an  illustration  of  the  justice  of  Archbishop  Whately's 
doctrine,  that  true  inductive  logic  is,  after  all,  but  a 
branch  of  the  syllogistic.  Sir  William  Hamilton  has 
indicated  that  Whately,  in  announcing  this  assertion, 
had  but  an  inaccurate  conception  of  its  true  import, 
but  he  deserves  the  credit  of  looking  in  the  right  direc- 
tion for  the  truth.  The  answers  made  to  the  question  : 
"  What  is  induction  ? "  are  crude  and  contradictor)7. 
Some  logicians,  and  many  physicists,  seem  to  think 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  281 

that  the  colligation  of  similar  instances,  in  considerable 
number,  is  inductive  argument.  Hamilton  ("  Meta- 
physics," Lect.  37th,)  declares  that  this  is  the  usual 
blunder  of  all  English  writers  on  the  inductive  logic. 
He  very  properly  declares  that  an  induction  from  some 
to  the  whole  is  worthless,  and  that  there  is  no  real 
demonstration  until  the  connection  of  antecedent  and 
consequent,  observed  in  a  part  of  the  instances,  is  shown 
to  be  necessary  by  the  subjective  laws  of  the  reason. 
So,  I  have  cited  Bacon,  declaring  that  if  the  induction 
proceed  no  further  than  a  mere  enumeration  of  agree- 
ing instances,  it  is  wholly  short  of  a  demonstration,  and 
can  but  raise  a  probability  of  a  law  of  causation,  which 
is  always  liable  to  be  overthrown  by  contrary  instances. 
It  is  this  mistake, which  accounts  for  the  present  loose 
condition  of  much  of  what  claims  to  be  physical  science. 
In  too  much  of  this,  an  almost  limitless  license  of  fram- 
ing hypotheses  which  have  a  show  of  probability  pre- 
vails, claiming  the  honored  name  of  "  Science  "  for  what 
are,  according  to  this  just  rule,  but  guesses.  Many 
others,  seeing  the  obvious  defect  of  such  a  definition  of 
inductive  argument,  and  yet  imagining  that  they  are 
obliged  to  find  an  essential  difference  between  inductive 
and  syllogistic  logic,  invent,  I  know  not  what,  untenable 
definitions  of  the  former.  Inductive  demonstration  is, 
in  fact,  only  that  branch  of  syllogistic  reasoning  which 
has  the  intuition,  "  Like  causes,  like  effects,"  as  the 
major  premise,,  and  which  seeks,  as  its  conclusion,  the 
discrimination  of  the  post  hoc  from  the  propter  hoc,  in 
seeking  the  true  law  of  cause  in  the  sequences  of  nat- 
ure. One  may,  if  he  chooses,  use  the  word  "Indtictio" 
to  express  the  colligation  of  similar  instances  of  se- 
quence. But  inductive  demonstration  is  another  matter, 
and  a  far  higher  matter,  which  is  still  to  come  after. 
It  is  the  logical  application  to  these  instances  colligated 
of  some  law  of  the  subjective  reason,  which  is  able  to 
detect  infallibly  the  causative  antecedent  amidst  seem- 


282  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ing  antecedents.  Its  preciousness  is  this  :  that  when 
once  that  discovery  is  made,  we  have  a  particular  law 
of  nature,  a  true  principle,  which  is  a  guide  of  future 
belief  and  practice.  But  why  does  that  discovery  un- 
cover to  us  a  law  of  nature  ?  Because  we  know  that 
the  great  truth  reigns  in  nature  :  "  Like  causes, 
like  effects  ;"  or,  in  other  words,  because  the  reason 
has  evolved  to  itself  the  self-evident  notion  of  efficient 
power  in  cause.  Now,  we  found  that  the  valid  applica- 
tion of  a  discriminating  canon  of  induction  is,  in  each 
case,  a  syllogism,  a  syllogism  of  which  the  primary  in- 
tuition is  first  premise.  Hence,  if  there  is  no  complete 
demonstration  from  mere  enumeration  of  instances,  in 
asserting  our  intuitive  notion  of  efficient  cause,  we  have 
been  defending  the  very  being  of  the  natural  sciences, 
as  well  as  the  very  citadel  of  natural  theology.  And 
we  now  see  how  the  Sensualistic  school  of  metaphysics 
is  as  blighting  to  the  interests  of  true,  physical  science 
as  of  the  divine  science.  The  inductive  method,  in  the 
hand  of  physicists,  who  grounded  it  substantially  in  the 
metaphysics  of  common  sense,  gave  us  the  splendid  re- 
sults of  the  Newtonian  era.  That  method,  in  the  hands 
of  Comte,  J.  S.  Mill,  and  Spencer,  is  giving  us  the  recent 
corruptions  and  license  of  Evolutionism  and  Atheism. 
The  unhallowed  touch  of  the  Sensualistic  school 
poisons  not  only  theology,  which  they  would  fain 
poison,  but  the  sciences  of  matter,  which  they  claim 
as  especially  theirs. 

T  think  we  are  now  prepared  to  appreciate  their 
clamor  against  our  postulating  "  final  causes"  for  natu- 
ral effects.  They  even  attempt  to  quote  Lord  Bacon, 
as  sanctioning  their  opposition.  But  all  that  he  says  is 
only  to  object  to  the  confounding  of  the  inquiry  into 
the  natural,  and  the  final  cause.  He  only  aims  to  teach 
us,  that  in  physics  we  must  proceed  by  the  ascertain- 
ment of  the  efficient  natural  causes.  In  metaphysics, 
he  allows  the  inquiry  for  the  final  cause  to  be  legitimate 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  283 

and  useful.  Why,  for  instance,  do  hairs  grow  on  the 
human  brow  over  the  eye?  This  "why"  really  asks 
two  distinct  questions.  It  asks  for  the  natural  cause: 
and  the  answer  is,  that  the  skin  there  contains  that  cel- 
lular arrangement  (lacking  on  the  rest  of  the  brow) 
which  nourishes  the  hair-bulbs.  But  if  it  asks  for  the 
final  cause,  the  answer  is  :  men  have  hairy  eye-brows, 
in  order  to  shield  the  eye  from  perspiration  and  other 
descending  obstructions.  Now,  it  will  be  very  bad 
physics,  to  mix  the  answer  of  the  second  question  with 
the  first.  But  it  will  be  worse  metaphysics  to  reject  the 
second  question  and  its  answer.  In  fact,  I  assert  that 
it  is  only  by  postulating  final  causes,  that  we  can  have  any 
foundation  whatever  Jor  an  inductive  science,  leading  us  to 
any  general  laws  of  natural  causes. 

Let  us  recall  our  positions:  We  have  seen  that  the 
sole  problem  of  induction  is  to  discover,  among  the 
seeming  antecedents  of  an  effect  experienced,  the  true, 
efficient  cause.  That  infallibly  ascertained,  we  have  a 
general  law  of  nature.  What  authorizes  us  to  assume 
it  as  general  ?  The  conviction  that  like  causes,  under 
like  conditions,  must  produce  like  effects.  [And  that 
conviction,  as  we  saw,  must  be  a  priori  to  experience 
as  to  its  authority :  or  otherwise  experience  could 
never  make  it  valid,  and  the  certain  demonstration  of 
any  regular  law  of  nature  would  be  impossible :  i.  e., 
science  would  be  impossible.]  But  on  what  condition 
can  that  ground-principle  be  valid  to  the  reason  ?  If 
there  is  nothing  in  nature  truly  answering  to  the  a  pri- 
ori notion  of  power  in  cause  ;  if  all  the  mind  is  entitled 
to  postulate  is  mere,  invariable  sequence ;  if  the  notion 
of  efficient  power  is  to  be  excluded,  because  not  given 
in  sense-perception,  is  that  belief  either  valid  or  neces- 
sary? Obviously  not.  Again:  if  cause  is  only  a  ma- 
terial efficiency — only  a  relation  between  properties  of 
two  bodies,  blind,  senseless,  unknowing,  involuntary, 
in  matter,  which  is  passive  yet  mutable,— is  there  any 


284  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

possible  foundation  for  a  necessary  judgment  of  the 
reason  that,  effects  must,  always  and  everywhere,  be  as 
invariable  as  their  causes?  Obviously  not.  It  is  only 
when  we  assume  that  there  is  a  Creator  to  the  creation, 
and  that  the  natural  order  is  the  expression  of  an  intel- 
ligent will,  that  our  confidence  is  consistent.  That  is 
to  say  :  la^v  implies  an  end ;  or  in  other  words,  a  final 
cause.  Physicists  delight  to  talk  about  "  laws  of  nat- 
ure." What  is  a  law  of  nature?  It  is  the  regular 
method  of  an  observed  force:  force  being  blind,  invol- 
untary, and  unintelligent.  But  law,  in  its  proper  sense, 
is  the  expression  of  intelligent  will ;  and  it  implies  intel- 
ligence and  volition  in  its  subjects.  To  speak  of  a  law 
of  material  nature  is  therefore  to'.speak  in  metaphor. 
If  the  belief  in  an  intelligent  Providence  over  nature 
be  banished,  then  all  our  physical  science  will  be  found 
built  upon  an  unwholesome  metaphor.  Matter  has 
neither  mind  nor  will  in  it:  and  therefore  if  there  is  no 
Mind  and  Will  over  it,  it  must  be  lawless.  The  reason, 
which  intuitively  imputed  law  to  it,  as  human  reason 
insists  on  doing,  would  be  founded  in  a  lie.  But 
wherever  an  intelligent  Will  imposes  on  anything  a 
regular  method,  it  must  be  with  a  view  to  some  end. 
We  may  not  know  what  the  specific  end  is :  but  we 
know  that  an  intelligence,  which  did  not  think  and  pur- 
pose to  an  end,  would  be  no  intelligence;  an  express 
contradiction.  But  I  repeat,  That  End  is  Final  Cause. 
It  is  the  constancy  of  the  Creative  Mind  to  it,  which 
grounds  the  invariability  of  cause.  Here  is  one  of 
those  ultimate  correspondences  between  the  will  of 
God  and  the  reason  of  the  creature,  on  which  the  pos- 
sibility of  legitimate  science  is  conditioned.  God  has 
evidently  made  the  human  reason  "  to  match  "  with  the 
constitution  of  nature  which  He  has  also  ordained.  Deny 
a  Providence  working  to  its  own  (secret)  final  causes, 
and  the  necessary  intuition  of  the  reason  would  be 
found  illegitimate.  The  logic  of  the  atheistic  physic- 


Origin  of  A -Priori  Notions.  285 

1st  is  uprooted  by  its  own  hand,  from  its  very  founda- 
tion ;  and  here  we  have  the  explanation  of  that  chaos 
of  hypothetic  license  into  which  physical  research  in 
their  hands  is  falling. 

In  the  previous  chapter  we  showed  the  validity  of 
our  a  priori  cognitions.  In  this  we  have  showed  that 
they  are  original,  and  not  the  mere  results  of  experi- 
ence. The  bearing  of  these  conclusions  on  the  ques- 
tion of  the  mind's  spirituality  is  very  near  and  simple. 
If  the  mind  contains,  in  its  original,  the  law  of  ration- 
ality, including  potentially  these  highest  notions  and 
judgments  of  all  its  future  intelligence,  then,  of  course, 
mind  is  not  evolved  from  anything  non- rational.  We 
have  seen  the  followers  of  Condillac  (more  consistent 
in  this  than  he,)  concurring  with  the  Evolutionists  of 
our  own  day,  to  teach  that  the  creature's  environment 
was  the  efficient  cause  of  his  faculties ;  that  his  object- 
ive experiences  shaped  his  forms  of  intelligence.  In 
demonstrating  the  existence  and  authority  of  &  priori 
cognitions,  we  have  overthrown  this  scheme.  For  we 
have  shown,  with  Plato,  that  the  mind  itself  is  Rational 
Cause,  is  efficient,  and  does  not  merely  receive,  but  con- 
fers: it  does  not  merely  submit  to  impressions,  but  it 
makes  those  objective  impressions  as  it  receives  them, 
imposing  upon  them  its  own  original  forms  of  cogni- 
tion and  logical  connections.  Rationality  is  thus  dem- 
onstrated to  be  elemental  to  the  mind,  not  superinduced 
upon  it.  And  now  from  this  simple,  but  commanding 
point  of  view,  can  any  one  doubt  that  a  supreme  Rea- 
son was  requisite  to  the  production  of  minds?  There 
must -be  enough  in  a  cause  to  account  for  all  that  is  in 
its  effects.  That  reason  which,  in  its  limited  measure, 
is  native  to  man,  is  doubtless  eternal  and  perfect  in 
God.  We  are  thus,  on  the  one  hand,  led  back  to  the 
old  argument,  from  spirit  to  God:  Because  I  am  a  ra- 
tional spirit,  therefore  there  must  be  a  spiritual  Creator, 


286  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

infinite  Mind.  And  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  taught 
that  evolutionism,  with  its  materialistic  result,  is  ab- 
surd* We  have  found  that  rationality  is  an  original, 
active  power,  which  is  in  order  to  cultivation,  and  there- 
fore cannot  result  from  it.  The  affinity  between  evolu- 
tionism and  the  false,  Sensualistic  psychology  is  now 
unmasked. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

REFUTATION   OF   SENSUALISTIC  ETHICS. 

THE  ethical  theory  of  Sensualism  was  briefly  de 
lineated  in  my  fourth  Chapter.  It  was  there  re- 
marked that  the  Sensualist's  denial  of  a  priori  princi- 
ples to  the  reason  shuts  him  up  to  the  attempt,  which  he 
always  makes,  for  resolving  the  functions  of  conscience 
into  artificial  habits  of  mind,  of  one  kind  or  another. 
It  thence  became  obvious,  that  if  these  solutions  are 
refuted,  and  it  appears  that  the  ethical  functions  of  the 
soul  cannot  be  resolved  into  any  modification  of  other 
functions,  then  they  remain  primarv,  and  Sensualism  is 
thus  shown  to  be  fundamentally  false.  To  this  cru- 
cial test  I  propose  now  to  subject  the  system.  We 
shall  set  aside  all  these  pretended  reductions  of  the 
original  ethical  function,  to  some  lower;  and  thus,  by  a 
process  of  exclusion,  we  shall  reach  the  rational  psy- 
chology, which  gives  us  the  wholesome  truth.  This  part 
of  the  discussion  will  thus  gain  for  us  the  two  ends  of 
inflicting  upon  the  Sensualistic  Philosophy  a  signal 
overthrow,  and  of  reinstating  and  instructing  our  prac- 
tical judgments  in  the  all-important  sphere  of  duty. 

The  grand  condition  of  moral  responsibility  is  ra- 
tional spontaneity.  This  proposition  is  the  first  of  the 
intuitions  of  conscience  which  the  Moralist  postulates. 
Both  subject  and  predicate  are  given  us  immediately 
in  consciousness.  I  am  conscious  that  I  am  sponta- 
neous in  my  own  acts.  It  is  as  impossible  to  deny  this 
fact,  as  it  would  be  to  demonstrate  it  deductively.  As 

(287) 


288  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Cousin  well  remarks,  this  immediate  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness to  our  free-agency  must  supersede  any  ar- 
guments against  it,  because  the  premises  of  those  argu- 
ments must  be  given  by  the  same  consciousness.     It  is 
the  inalienable  prerogative  of  the  Ego  to  say,  what  / 
do   is  self-prompted  ;    else  it  were  not  I !     So,   every 
man  knows  by  a  primitive   and  necessary  judgment, 
that  this  spontaneity  is  the  condition  of  his  responsi- 
bility.    Common   sense  says:    "I   am   responsible   for 
what  I  do  of  myself."     But  what  is  spontaneity  ;  and 
especially,   how    do   its    most    explicit   acts,    volitions, 
arise  ?     Sensualism  dare  not  deny  the  necessary  truth  ; 
and  it  therefore  sophisticates  the  answer.     It  attempts 
to  make  us  say  that  our  freedom  as  rational  agents  con- 
sists only  in  the  privilege  of  executing  what  we  have 
willed.    But  my  consciousness  obstinately  replies,  that  I 
am  also  a  free  agent  in  having  that  volition.     There  was 
the  essential  feature  of  choice  ;  there  rational  preference 
first   exhibited   itself.     How    did    the    volition    arise? 
Sensationalists,   from    Hobbes    to    Mill,    are    virtually 
agreed  in  answering  :  Volitions  are  effects  of  desires  ; 
and  desires  are  the  effects  of  sensations  ;  desire  is,  in- 
deed, but  the  sense-impression  re-appearing  in  a  reflex 
form.     Just  as  animal  pain  is  the  effect  of  the  blow,  so 
resentment  is  the  effect  of  the  perception  of  the  injuri- 
ous purpose,  or  concupiscence,  of  the  attractive  object. 
Man's  whole  volitions,  therefore,  are  caused  from  with- 
out.    While  he  supposes  himself  free,  he  is  the  slave 
of  circumstances.     The   only  escape  which  J.   S.   Mill 
can  find  from  this  consequence  of  his  father's  sensualis- 
tic  analysis,  is,  to  deny,  against  reason,  that  there  is  any 
efficiency  in  cause.     Were  the  notion  of  cause  properly 
interpreted,  as  containing  the  notion  of  efficient  power, 
he  admits  that   every   volition   would   be  necessitated 
from    without.     But  he  proposes   to   save  man's   free- 
agency,  by  the  doctrine  that  there  is  no  relation  be- 
tween the  cause  and  its  effect  save  that  of  sequence ! 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         289 

The  consciousness  of  true  freedom  in  every  soul  is 
the  sufficient  refutation  of  this  theory.  But  to  remove 
it  thoroughly  out  of  our  way,  and  also  to  explain  and 
prepare  the  way  for  the  true  scheme,  I  add,  that  it  con- 
founds the  practical  distinction  between  the  objective 
occasion,  and  the  subjective  cause  of  volitions.  As  this 
is  vital,  let  us  agree  upon  a  nomenclature  here;  and 
bargain  that  the  object  shall  be  called  the  induce- 
ment to  volition,  and  the  subjective  cause,  its  motive. 
In  our  popular  speech,  we  are  constantly  confounding 
the  two  :  we  speak  currently  of  the  alcoholic  drink  as 
the  motive  of  the  drunkard,  and  the  money  stolen  as 
the  motive  of  the  thief.  But  we  need  Only  to  inspect 
our  thoughts  to  distinguish  this  confusion.  Motive  is 
Motivum,  that  which  moves  :  the  efficient  of  the  voli- 
tion. But  is  the  liquid  really  active?  Surely  it  is  a 
dead,  material,  passive  thing,  as  the  drunkard  looks  at 
it.  Its  physical  properties  contain  as  yet  only  poten- 
tial (not  actual)  powers  over  the  nerves  ;  even  these 
only  become  active  physically,  after  the  drunkard's 
voluntary  act  has  established  the  relation  of  contact. 
Suppose  him  now  conceiving  the  object  in  thought ;  or 
if  you  will,  perceiving  it  by  eyesight,  but  at  such  a  dis- 
tance that  its  fumes  do  not  even  reach  his  nostrils.  He 
says,  this  "  liquid  attracts  him."  But  this  is  heedless 
speech  :  he  attracts  it ;  the  liquid  is  dead  and  passive. 
The  activity,  which  is  that  of  conception  and  concupis- 
cence, passes  precisely  the  other  way  ;  from  the  sen- 
tient free-agent  to  the  dead  material.  It  is  the  soul, 
which  is  moving  toward  the  liquid,  to  make  it  the  help- 
less instrument  of  its  volition,  not  the  liquid  which 
moves  the  soul.  The  material  is  only  victim  :  it  is  the 
soul  which  is  agent.  This  is  demonstrated,  second,  by 
the  simplest  canon  of  induction.  Like  causes  should 
produce  like  effects.  There  were  two  poor  men  who 
were  servants  of  houses  of  entertainment.  In  both 
were  lodgers,  who  heedlessly  left  their  purses,  contain- 
I9 


290  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ing  gold,  upon  their  tables.  These  servants,  coming 
in,  saw  their  opportunity  to  appropriate  it.  In  each 
case  there  was  the  same  need,  the  same  opportunity, 
secrecy,  and  impunity.  But  one  of  the  servants  stole 
the  purse  he  found,  and  the  other  restored  what  he 
found  to  its  owner.  Now  we  cannot  say  that,  in  the 
first  case,  the  gold  caused  the  theft.  For  had  gold  been 
the  cause  of  theft,  like  causes  should  have  produced 
like  effects.  The  gold  was  only  the  occasion  (or  in- 
ducement) of  the  theft,  and  another  cause  must  be 
found  for  each  of  the  two  volitions.  The  cause  of  the 
theft  was  cupidity  ;  as  the  cause  of  the  restoration  of  the 
other  purse  to  its  owner  was  honesty  (or  policy).  The 
sources  of  the  causations  were  in  the  two  men,  not  in 
the  two  purses.  And  this  is  a  fair  example  of  an  ex- 
perimental inductive  proof,  which  might  be  extended 
as  widely  as  the  customary  actions  of  mankind. 

The  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  free-agency  should  be, 
chiefly,  a  process  of  faithful  observation  of  conscious- 
ness. We  should  discharge  our  minds  of  all  precon- 
ceptions and  hypotheses,  and  selecting  a  characteristic 
or  fairly  representative  case,  carefully  inspect  the  con- 
ditions under  which  volition  arises  in  man.  We  are 
all  aware  of  the  fact,  that  some  volitions  are  much  more 
uncertain  and  variable  than  others;  and  these  are  the 
cases  where  the  attention  is  feeble,  or  almost  wholly 
absent,  or  the  object  is  trivial,  or  its  relation  to  our  sub- 
jective desires  contingent  and  mutable.  To  examine 
fairly,  then,  we  should  select  the  more  serious  cases  of 
choice,  where  there  is  permanency  and  weight  of  ob- 
ject, and  conscious  deliberation  in  the  agent.  If  we 
accept  the  current  history  of  Julius  Cassar,  his  delibera- 
tion at  the  Rubicon,  and  his  consequent  decision,  pre- 
sent us  just  such  a  typical  instance  as  we  seek.  Let  us 
examine  the  action  of  this  soul  here,  in  the  light  of  our 
own  consciousness  and  our  practical  knowledge  of  human 
nature.  We  see,  first,  that  the  real  problem  is  not  the 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         291 

muscular  acts  by  which  Caesar  plunged  his  horse  into 
the  ford,  and  made  the  decisive  passage.  These  were 
merely 'the  effects,  in  which  a  determination  of  soul 
expressed  themselves.  Nor,  in  the  second  place,  is  the 
action  of  the  free-agent  sufficiently  explained  by  saying 
that  his  free-agency  consisted  in  the  liberty  to  execute 
his  own  determination.  In  this  case,  what  does  such  a 
statement  mean  ?  Only,  that  no  material  obstacle,  such 
as  a  wall,  or  an  opposing  army,  then  stood  on  the 
southern  bank  of  the  Rubicon.  The  absence  of  this 
constituted,  obviously,  Caesar's  opportunity,  and  not 
his  free-agency.  The  real  question  of  free-agency  re- 
mains still  untouched;  it  is  this:  How  did  the  deter- 
mination of  mind  then  and  there  to  use  that  opportu- 
nity, arise  in  this  man?  Now,  the  consistent  follower 
of  Hobbes  would  say  that  it  was  efficiently  caused  by 
the  conception  of  the  power,  and  wealth,  and  fame, 
which  lay  before  him,  attainable  by  that  act.  But  this 
is  false,  as  appears  from  this  simple  view  :  Had  it  been 
the  virtuous  Cato  who  stood  upon  the  bank  of  that 
river,  and  had  imagination  portrayed  the  very  same 
visions  of  fame,  power,  and  wealth  before  him,  he  would 
not  have  crossed  the  Rubicon  to  assail  the  legislature 
of  his  own  country.  The  objects  seen  in  imagination 
were  not  the  true  efficient  then  ;  for  "like  causes  must 
produce  like  effects."  We  must  look  deeper;  the  true 
cause  must,  obviously,  be  found  in  the  subjective  differ- 
ences between  Cato  and  Caesar.  And  that  difference 
was  inordinate  ambition.  But  did  the  objects  cause 
the  ambition,  and  thus  cause  the  ambitious  volition? 
No  ;  the  objects  merely  presented  an  occasion  to  the 
ambition  preexisting ;  for  here,  again,  the  same  argu- 
ment applies :  these  objects  did  not  cause  an  inordinate 
ambition  in  Cato's  spirit.  The  true  motive,  then,  of 
Caesar's  volition  was  his  own  ambition,  which  was  his 
subjective  affection,  and  a  spontaneous  out-acting  of  his 
self-hood.  When  we  get  back  to  this  affection,  we 


292  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

have  obviously  reached  the  ultimate  and  simple  fact  of 
spontaneity.  Nobody  made  Julius  Csesar  feel  ambi- 
tious ;  the  objects  and  opportunity  did  not  make  him 
feel  so  ;  they  were  passive  ;  they  merely  presented  the 
occasion,  or  opening,  for  the  existing,  spontaneous 
feeling  to  flow  out. 

But  one  more  fact  remains  to  be  noticed  in  this  analy- 
sis. It  is  said  that  the  Dictator  Sulla,  in  his  later  years, 
studied  the  character  of  the  young  Julius,  and  pre- 
dicted that  he  would,  in  time,  prove  a  formidable 
usurper.  This  suggests  the  other  fact,  that  while  voli- 
tions are  free,  yet  they  often  have  such  uniformity  of 
quality  as  to- enable  us  to  predict  them.  Whence  this 
uniformity  ?  What  was  it  in  the  spirit  of  the  young 
aspirant,  Julius,  that  enabled  the  old  politician,  Sulla, 
to  predict  confidently  that  he  would  one  day  play  the 
usurper?  Common-sense  answers:  an  ambitious  char- 
acter. The  case  implies,  of  course,  permanency  in  this 
character.  No  one  means,  when  he  says,  that  "  J. 
Cassar  was  of  an  ambitious  character,"  that  the  emo- 
tion of  ambition,  in  a  specific  form,  was  continuously 
active  in  Caesar's  consciousness.  Daily  he  slept  some 
hours.  Often  his  consciousness  was  for  a  time  occu- 
pied with  study,  or  with  amusement,  or  with  social  af- 
fections, or  with  other  evil  passions,  as  lust  or  anger. 
Wherein,  then,  consisted  the  continuity  of  this  ambi- 
tious character, at  such  times?  The  answer  leads  us  to 
another  fundamental  fact :  the  fact  of  permanent  disposi- 
tion. This  all-important  fact  in  free-agency  is  what  the 
scholastic  divines  termed  Habitus  (iiot  consuetude].  It  is 
the  permanent  subjective  law  of  man's  free-agency ; 
the  regulative  principle  of  his  free  affections  and  deter- 
minations. The  habitus,  or  disposition,  may  be  known  : 
as  it  is  permanent  and  regulative,  the  perception  of  it 
enables  the  observer  to  foretell  with  certainty  how  the 
agent  will  freely  decide  in  the  presence  of  given  objects. 
Some  dispositions  are  acquired ;  others  are  original ; 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         293 

and  these  are  universal  among  men.  Thus :  every 
human  being  is  certainly,  and  permanently,  and  always 
determined  freely  to  choose  happiness  rather  than  mis- 
ery, whenever  the  alternatives  are  presented,  and  the 
choice  is  to  be  made  by  him  of  one  or  the  other  result 
for  its  own  sake.  It  is  simply  and  absolutely  certain, 
that  no  man  is  going  to  choose  his  own  misery,  merely 
for  the  sake  of  being  miserable,  when  the  option  is  of- 
fered to  him  simply  as  such.  Why  certain?  Not  be- 
cause the  man's  choice  ceases  to  be  free ;  but  because 
it  is  his  native  and  fundamental  disposition  freely  to 
desire  happiness.  If  there  be  other  dispositions  also 
original  and  permanent,  they  will  be  found  equally 
regulative  of  the  free-agency.  And  it  is  the  overlook- 
ing of  this  fundamental  fact  of  dispositions  which  has 
complicated  the  question,  how  the  will  acts,  in  the 
hands  of  so  many  philosophers.  Dr.  Reid  and  Cousin, 
for  instance,  saw  clearly  the  irrefragable  truth  that  the 
freedom  of  man  is  something  more  than  liberty  to  exe- 
cute such  volitions  as  arise  in  his  spirit.  They  asserted 
the  great  truth,  that  the  Soul  is  self-determining.  But 
in  order  to  sustain  that  all-important  truth,  they  vacil- 
lated toward  the  self-contradictory  doctrine  of  the 
semi-Pelagians,  that  the  faculty  of  will  is  itself  self- 
determining.  They  saw  clearly  the  central  truth,  that 
the  soul  (and  not  the  objective  inducement)  is  the  true 
cause  of  its  own  acts  of  choice ;  and  hence  man's  just 
responsibility.  They  overlooked  the  other  fact,  that 
this  true  cause,  this  real  Power,  Soul,  like  everything 
else  in  the  creation  of  the  All-wise  God,  has  its  own 
regulative  law  of  action.  This  regulative  law  is  its  own 
dispositions.  This  fact  of  disposition  is  an  ultimate  fact 
of  consciousness,  coexistent  with  the  other  great  fact, 
spontaneity.  It  is  as  vain  to  ask,  u  Why  the  soul  is  dis- 
posed as  it  is  natively  disposed,"  as  to  seek  a  prior  root 
for  its  spontaneity.  When  we  have  gotten  to  the  fact, 
spontaneity,  and  to  its  regulative  law,  disposition,  we 


2 94  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

are  at  the  end  of  our  analysis:  we  stop  at  these  orig- 
inal principles  of  the  rational  agent. 

All  assert  man's  freedom,  then;  but  when  we  ask 
wherein  consists  man's  free-agency,  one  party  answers  : 
In  the  self-determining  power  of  the  Will ;  the  other, 
In  the  self-determining  power  of  the  Soul.  The  one 
party  asserts  that  man  is  not  truly  free  and  responsible 
unless  the  will  remains  in  equilibria,  after  all  previous 
conditions  of  judgment  in  the  understanding  and  emo- 
tion according  to  the  native  dispositions  are  fulfilled, 
and  unless  the  act  of  choice  be  an  uncaused  change, 
capable  of  arising  out  of  the  faculty  of  choice  itself, 
even  against  the  stronger  subjective  motive  and  the 
original  disposition.  The  other  party  teaches  that, 
while  the  soul  is  spontaneous,  and  the  true  efficient  of 
every  rational  volition,  this  spontaneity,  like  every 
other  power  in  the  universe,  acts  according  to  law ;  this 
law  being  the  disposition  which  spontaneously  regu- 
lates the  soul's  subjective  states,  and  thus  its  determi- 
nations. Volitions  are,  therefore,  not  uncaused:  but 
follow  the  soul's  own  view  and  desire  of  the  preferable  ; 
which  constitute  the  true  or  subjective  motive. 

The  latter  is  evidently  the  true  doctrine ;  because, 
first,  our  consciousness  tells  us  so.  Every  man  feels, 
that  when  he  acts  as  a  conscious  being,  he  has  a  motive 
for  acting  as  he  does :  and  that  if  he  had  not,  he  would 
not  have  thus  acted.  The  very  conception  which 
every  man's  common  sense  gives  him  of  his  o\vn  ra- 
tional choice  is,  his  choosing  according  to  his  own  mo- 
tive, or  acting  because  he  had  a  reason  for  so  acting. 
Second  :  Otherwise,  we  should  never  make  any  recog- 
nition of  character,  or  permanent  principles,  in  our- 
selves or  our  fellow-men.  For  there  would  be  no  effi- 
cient influence  of  the  man's  own  principles  over  his 
own  actions;  so  that  the  ordinary  current  of  the  ac- 
tions would  not  be  a  certain  index  of  the  character,  as 
all  men  of  good  sense  believe  they  are.  One's  princi- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         295 

pies  might  be  of  a  given  character,  and  his  actions  of  a 
different  character,  or  of  no  uniform  character.  Third  : 
Consequently  there  would  be  no  certain  result  from 
human  influence,  over  man's  actions  and  character,  in 
education  and  moral  government.  We  might  educate 
the  principles,  and  still  fail  to  educate  the  actions  and 
habits.  Or,  vice  versa,  we  might  control  the  actions 
uniformly,  and  still  fail  to  affect  the  principles.  That 
fact  would  be  impossible,  which  we  all  experience 
every  day,  that  we  do  cause  our  fellow-men  to  put  forth 
certain  volitions,  that  we  can  often  do  it  with  a  fore- 
seen certainty,  and  still  we  feel  that  those  acts  are  free 
and  responsible.  Fourth:  Otherwise  man  might  be 
neither  a  reasonable  nor  a  moral  being  :  not  reasonable, 
because  his  acts  might  at  last  be  wholly  uncontrolled 
by  his  own  understanding;  not  moral,  because  the 
merit  of  an  act  depends  upon  its  motive,  and  his  might 
be  motiveless.  If  the  self-determined  volition  has  its 
freedom  essentially  in  this,  that  it  may  be  uncaused 
even  by  subjective  motive,  no  act  would  be  in  the 
truest  sense  so  free  and  virtuous  as  that  which  the  man 
did  without  any  present  reason  for  doing  it.  But  does 
not  the  virtuousness  of  the  act  depend  essentially  upon 
the  kind  of  motive  which  moved  him  to  do  it?  Fifth : 
In  the  choice  of  one's  summum  bonum,  the  will  is  cer- 
tainly not  contingent.  Can  a  rational  being  choose  his 
own  misery  and  eschew  his  own  happiness,  appre- 
hended as  such,  for  their  own  sakes  ?  Yet  that  choice 
is  free — and  if  certainty  is  compatible  with  free-agency 
in  this  most  important  case,  why  not  in  any  other  ? 
Sixth  :  God,  angels,  saints  in  glory,  and  the  human 
nature  of  Jesus  Christ  must  be  certainly  determined  to 
right  volitions  by  the  holiness  of  their  own  natures,  and, 
in  all  but  the  first  case,  by  indwelling  grace  and  the  de- 
terminate purpose  of  God.  So,  on  the  other  hand, 
devils,  lost  souls,  and  they  who  on  earth  have  sinned 
away  their  day  of  grace,  must  be  certainly  determined 


296  Sensualistic  Philosophy* 

to  evil  by  their  own  decisive  evil  natures  and  habits: 
vet  their  choice  is  free,  in  both  cases.  Seventh  :  If  the 

~> 

will  were  contingent,  there  could  be  no  scientia  media 
even:  much  less  an  immediate  omniscience;  and  we 
should  be  compelled  to  the  low  and  profane  doctrine 
of  the  Sociiiians,  that  in  the  nature  of  things,  God  can- 
not foreknow  all  the  acts  of  the  creature.  For  the  only 
intelligible  definition  of  scientia  media  is,  that  it  is  that 
contingent  knowledge  of  what  free  agents  will  choose 
to  do  in  certain  circumstances,  arising  out  of  God's  in- 
finite insight  into  their  dispositions.  But  if  the  will 
may  decide  in  opposition  to  that  foreseen  disposition, 
the  foresight  of  it  is  no  ground  of  a  knowledge  what 
the  volition  will  be.  Nor  is  it  sufficient  to  resort  to 
the  incomprehensibility  of  an  infinite  understanding  to 
us,  to  evade  this  contradiction.  For  the  infinite  perfec- 
tion of  the  divine  mind  renders  it  not  easier,  but  more 
impossible  for  it  to  hold  the  consistency  of  a  species  of 
knowledge  purely  conditional,  when  the  very  condition 
is  denied.  If  a  correct  mind  certainly  foresees  an  act, 
then  that  act  must  be  certain  to  occur ;  else  this  certain 
foreknowledge  is  incorrect.  It  thus  appears  that  noth- 
ing which  is  embraced  in  the  divine  foreknowledge 
can  be  contingent  with  God.  But  to  return — Eighth  : 
Were  volitions  contingent,  God  would  have  no  certain 
way  of  governing  free  agents  efficiently,  consistent 
with  their  free-agency  :  Acts  might  at  any  time  be 
done  by  them  contrary  to  God's  most  fixed  purpose; 
and  the  only  government  possible  for  Him  would  be 
one  of  mutable  expedients,  devised  to  meet  undesigned 
failures  of  His  real  plan.  Nor  could  He  bestow  any 
certain  answer  to  prayers,  either  against  temptation  and 
our  own  wrong  choice,  or  against  the  wrong  purposes 
of  others.  Last:  The  demonstration  may  be  closed 
by  the  famous  reductio  ad  absurdum,  which  John  Ed- 
wards borrowed  from  the  Scholastics.  If  the  will  is 
not  determined  to  choice  by  subjective  motive,  but  de- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.          297 

termines  itself,  then  the  will  must  determine  itself  to 
choose  by  an  act  of  choice,  for  this  remains  its  only 
function.  That  is,  the  will  must  choose  to  choose. 
Now,  this  prior  choice  must  be  held  by  our  opponents 
to  be  self-determined.  Then  it  must  be  determined  by 
the  will's  act  of  choice :  that  is,  the  will  must  choose  to 
choose  to  choose.  Thus  we  have  an  endless  and  ridic- 
ulous regressus. 

But  the  current  objections  are,  that  our  view  makes 
man  a  machine  ;  an  intelligent  one,  indeed  ;  but  yet  a 
machine,  in  which  choice  follows  motive  by  a  natural, 
and  so,  a  necessary  tie.  The  answer  is,  that  the  analogy 
suggested  by  the  objection  is  false.  Man  has  no  feature 
of  the  machine,  save  that  his  spontaneity  always  has 
some  regulative  law.  The  essential  trait  of  the  machine 
is  wholly  lacking  ;  a  physical  motive  power  outside  him- 
self. Man's  motive  power  is  himself;  the  external  ob- 
ject is  inducement  only,  not  motive.  The  motive  is  the 
agent's  own  judgment  and  desire,  just  as  truly  as  the 
determination  is  the  agent's  own  choice.  The  motive 
power  is  within,  and  therefore  the  man  is  not  a  machine. 
The  agent  is  a  monad,  without  parts  ;  and  therefore  the 
man  is  not  a  machine. 

It  is  objected,  again,  that  this  doctrine  fails  to  account 
for  those  cases  where  the  man  determines  against  his 
own  better  judgment  and  feelings.  Thus,  it  is  said  : 
the  drunkard  violates  his  own  better  judgment  and  his 
own  sincere  and  anxious  resolutions  and  desires  by 
taking  the  intoxicating  drink.  In  this  case,  it  is  urged, 
we  have  a  volition  contrary  to  the  prevalent  judgment 
and  preference.  I  reply;  No  ;  the  man  has  chosen  pre- 
cisely according  to  his  own  prevalent  judgment  and 
preference  at  the  time.  This  drunkard  may  judge  that 
sobriety  would  be  the  preferable  good  in  the  end,  or  as 
a  whole  ;  but  as  to  the  question  of  this  present  indul- 
gence,— which  is  the  real,  immediate  object  of  his  voli- 
tion, both  judgment  and  propensity  concur  at  the  time 


298  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

to  prefer  it  as  the  present  good  ;  otherwise  he  would 
not  take  it.  It  is  true  that  the  understanding  is  now 
misinformed,  by  strong  propensity,  to  judge  differently 
from  its  former  judgment;  and  the  delusive  hope' of 
subsequent  reform,  combining  the  advantages  of  future 
impunity  with  present  enjoyment,  leads  him  to  cheat 
himself  with  the  idea  that  the  preferable  good  is  this 
immediate  indulgence,  to  be  followed  by  a  future 
reformation,  rather  than  immediate  self-denial.  Even 
Aristotle  ("  Nichomachian  Ethics,"  Book  IV.,  §  3,)  saw 
that  this  was  the  true  solution  of  such  cases  of  free- 
agency. 

It  is  objected  that  our  repentance  for  having  chosen 
wrong  alv/ays  implies  the  feeling  that  we  might  have 
chosen  otherwise  had  we  pleased.  I  reply :  Yes  ;  pro- 
vided that  different  choice  had  been  preceded  at  the 
time  by  a  different  view  and  feeling  of  the  preferable. 
No  man,  who  understands  himself,  supposes  that  he 
would  have  chosen  differently,  had  he  judged  and  felt 
as  to  the  object  precisely  as  he  did.  The  thing  for 
which  the  repentant  mind  blames  itself  is,  that  it  had 
not  those  different  and  rightful  judgments  and  desires, 
prompting  the  different  volition.  The  conclusion  which 
is  really  proved  by  all  such  instances  is,  that  men  know 
themselves  to  be  blameworthy  and  responsible  for 
wrong  judgments  and  desires,  as  well  as  for  wrong 
volitions.  For,  their  consciousness  tells  them  that  both 
are  functions  of  their  own  spontaneity. 

It  is  objected,  again,  that  our  doctrine  cannot  account 
for  any  choice  between  objects  precisely  equal.  The 
answer  is,  that  the  equality  of  the  objects  by  no  means 
implies  the  equality  of  the  subjective  desires.  Is  the 
mind  ever  in  precisely  the  same  s':ate  of  desire  for  two 
minutes  together,  even  as  to  one  and  the  same  object? 
The  feelings  are  in  a  state  of  perpetual  ebb  and  flow. 
In  the  case  supposed,  although  the  objects  remain  equal, 
the  mind  will  easily  make  a  difference;  perhaps  an  im- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         299 

aginary  one.  We  must  remember  that  there  is  already 
a  subjective  motive,  which  is  sufficiently  prevalent,  for 
choosing  some  one  among  the  equal  objects.  The  ob- 
jects being  equal,  an  infinites!  maily  small  preponderance 
of  view  and  feeling  will  suffice  to  overcome  the  remain- 
ing inertia  of  will  as  to  the  choice  of  the  one  equal 
object  over  the  other. 

But  the  leading  objection  is,  that  if  the  volitions  are 
any  way  necessitated,  man  cannot  be  justly  held  respon- 
sible, or  rewarded,  or  punished.  There  is,  of  course,  a 
sense  in  which  this  is  true,  and  hence  the  plausibility 
of  the  cavil.  But  the  objection  confounds  compulsion 
with  certainty  of  choice.  If  the  man  were  compelled  to 
an  act  against,  his  will  ;  if  the  act  were  in  this  sense  in- 
voluntary ;  then  he  would  be  neither  responsible,  nor 
meritorious,  nor  guilty.  But  the  question  is,  whether 
the  certain  or  efficient  connection  between  man's  own 
free  judgments  and  desires  and  his  volitions  impairs  his 
responsibility ;  and  to  this  question  reason  and  experi- 
ence give  a  very  clear  negative.  God  has  repeatedly 
punished  wicked  men  for  free  evil  acts,  which  He  had 
predicted;  but  their  prediction  showed  that  their  per- 
formance was  certain.  Again  :  we  foretell  the  evil  acts 
of  the  sensual  and  vicious,  but  we  blame  them  none  the 
less  for  those  acts.  How  are  we  enabled  to  foretell 
them  ?  By  our  acquaintance  with  their  dispositions, 
and  our  belief  in  the  certain  connection  between  dis- 
position and  volition,  supposing  the  presence  of  the  ap- 
propriate objects.  And  we  do  not  consider  these  wicked 
men  as  any  the  less  responsible  and  blameworthy  be- 
cause their  dispositions  to  do  wrong  are  so  strong  or 
so  decisive  ;  we  judge  them  only  the  more  blameworthy 
therefor.  Again  :  we  procure  volitions  from  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  we  are  often  certain,  in  advance,  that  we 
shall  procure  the  volition  designed.  On  what  else  is 
all  rational  government  of  man  by  man  founded  ?  Un- 
less the  connection  between  disposition  and  volition 


300  Sensualistic*  Philosophy. 

were  certain  and  efficacious,  we  could  not  know 
whether  we  could  successfully  induce  a  given  volition 
by  a  given  object  or  not.  But  do  we  dream  that  the 
persons  influenced  are  not  responsible  or  meritorious? 
Or,  would  one  of  those  persons  concede  that  his  right 
act  was  not  rewardable,  because  it  had  thus  been  in- 
duced by  you  ?  Surely  not.  Once  more  :  Gocl  holds 
evil  spirits  and  lost  souls  responsible  for  their  wicked 
volitions,  although  the  depravity  of  their  natures  cer- 
tainly determines  them  to  an  everlasting  rebellion.  All 
these  cases  demonstrate  that  no  man's  responsibility  is 
impaired  by  the  certainty  of  his  choosing,  in  accordance 
with  his  own  prevalent  dispositions.  But  the  objector 
returns  to  the  charge  with  this  argument  :  that  we 
make  a  subjective  disposition  really  regulative  of  the 
acts  of  choice.  Unless  that  disposition  is  elected  by  the 
agent  in  an  act  of  choice,  it  is  in  a  sense  involuntary1, 
and  the  agent  is  not  really  free.  The  answer  is,  that 
disposition  is  an  original  and  rudimental  fact  of  rational 
spontaneity,  behind  which  no  analysis  and  no  argument 
can  be  carried.  While  original  disposition  is,  indeed, 
not  "  voluntary  "  in  the  sense  of  being  a  result  of  a  voli- 
tion, yet  it  is  most  properly  voluntary  in  the  sense  of 
this  argument :  i.  e.,  spontaneous.  And  of  this  the 
practical  proof  is,  that  the  man  exercises  his  ruling 
disposition  wholly  uncompelled  :  no  one  makes  him 
exercise  it.  My  disposition  is  as  truly  (in  the  language 
of  the  Greek),  TO  e'  e/zo^,  as  my  volition.  But  we  have  a 
crowning  instance,  which  gives  the  refutation  to  this 
cavil:  the  holiness  of  God.  He  acts  with  infallible 
holiness,  because  He  is  efficiently  determined  thereto 
by  a  disposition  infinitely  and  immutably  holy.  Was 
this  disposition  the  result  of  an  act  of  choice  taken  by 
God  electing  it,  and  thus  acquiring  it?  No;  for  God 
is  eternally  and  unchangeably  holy  !  Is  God,  then,  not 
meritorious  for  His  holy  acts  ?  The  thougnt  is  profane. 
Here,  then,  is  an  Agent  in  whom  disposition  was  abso- 


Refutation  of  Sensucilistic  Ethics.         301 

lutely  original  and  absolutely  efficacious  in  regulatingHis 
volitions,  and  yet  He  is  the  freest  and  most  praiseworthy 
of  all  agents.  Finally  :  if  disposition  could  only  become 
morally  praiseworthy  or  blameworthy  by  originating 
in  the  agent's  own  act  of  choice,  from  what  regulative 
moral  principle  could  that  all-important,  that  consti- 
tutive, act  of  choice  have  proceeded  ?  Not  from  the 
resultant  moral  disposition  ;  the  child  does  riot  beget 
its  own  father.  Then,  from  what  ?  There  is  no  answer  ; 
and  the  objector  is  left  in  this  preposterous  attitude, 
ascribing  an  all-important  and  decisive  moral  result  to 
this  first  volition,  which,  according  to  his  own  scheme, 
had  no  moral  motive  !  He  makes  man's  whole  virtue 
or  vice  a  stream  of  moral  effects,  flowing  from  a  cause 
which  had  nothing  moral  in  it !  We  are  thus  inexor- 
ably taught  that  the  moral  quality  of  the  stream  of 
actions  depends,  not  on  the  manner  of  originating,  but 
on  the  nature  of  the  moral  dispositions,  which  freely 
exercise  themselves  in  regulating  the  specific  volitions 
in  the  stream. 

It  is  equally  plain  that  the  adaptation  of  any  object 
to  be  an  inducement  to  volition  depends  on  some  sub- 
jective attribute  of  appetency  in  the  agent.  This  state 
of  appetency  must  be  ct  priori  to  the  inducement ;  not 
created  by  it,  but  conferring  on  the  object  its  whole 
fitness  to  be  an  inducement.  In  other  words,  when  we 
seek  to  occasion  volition  by  holding  out  an  inducement 
as  occasion  or  means,  we  always  presuppose  in  the 
agent  whom  we  address,  some  active  propensity.  No 
one  attempts  to  allure  a  hungry  horse  with  bacon,  or  a 
hungry  man  with  hay.  Why?  We  recognize  in  each 
agent  an  a  priori  state  of  appetite,  which  has  already 
determined  to  which  of  them  the  bacon  shall  be  induce- 
ment, and  to  which  the  hay.  The  same  fact  is  true  of 
the  spiritual  desires  of  the  reasonable  soul.  Hence, 
it  follows  that  inducement  alone  has  no  adequate 
power  to  revolutionize  the  subjective  dispositions 


302  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

natural  to  agents.     The  effect  cannot  determine  its  own 
cause. 

That  view  which  the  Sensualistic  scheme  gives  of 
necessity  is,  then,  false.  True,  volition  always  has  a 
cause,  which  is  the  subjective  motive.  This  cause  is 
efficient,  otherwise  the  effect  would  not  follow.  But 
the  motive  is  subjective  ;  it  is  as  truly  the  agent's  self, 
judging  and  desiring,  as  volition  is  the  same  self-choos- 
ing and  determining.  And  this  subjective  desire, 
causative  of  choice,  is  a  function  of  the  agent's  activity, 
not  of  his  passivity.  The  correct  doctrine  here  pro- 
ceeds with  Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  separating  desire, 
as  a  conative  and  active  power,  from  sensibility,  which 
is  passive.  The  desire  is  as  much  of  the  agent's  spon- 
taneity as  is  the  choice.  Thus  is  corrected  the  error 
of  the  Sensualist,  who,  while  he  taught  that  volition  is 
efficiently  caused  by  desire,  also  taught  that  desire  is 
but  the  passive  reflex  of  the  objective  perception  of  the 
natural  good  or  evil.  Were  this  true,  man  would,  in- 
deed, be  merely  a  machine,  governed  through  his  desires 
by  the  fated  influence  of  outward  objects,  and  his  free- 
dom would  be  illusory.  On  the  other  hand,  the  true 
doctrine  of  free-agency  is  equally  fatal  to  the  latest 
phase -of  the  Sensualistic  scheme,  which  seeks  to  account 
for  all  the  powers  of  man's  soul  by  an  evolution.  If 
that  truth  is  admitted,  which  we  have  established,  con- 
cerning the  existence  of  original  and  fundamental  dis- 
position, then  man's  nature  cannot  be  accounted  for  by 
the  action  of  his  environment  upon  his  sensibility.  On 
the  contrary,  the  nature,  or  spiritual  essentia,  must  be 
h  priori  to  any  influence  of  the  environment.  The  law 
of  original  disposition  must  determine,  in  advance, 
whether  the  objective  environment  shall  have  any  in- 
fluence, and  what  influence  it  shall  have.  As  we  saw 
that  the  fact  of  conscious  rational  spontaneity  was  fatal, 
when  properly  understood,  to  materialism,  we  now  find 
it  equally  fatal  to  evolutionism.  We  find  that  disposi- 


Refutation  of  Sensucclistic  Ethics.         303 

tion,  and  not  the  objective  inducement,  is  the  real 
cause  of  those  desires  and  volitions  by  which  spiritual 
habits  are  fostered.  Man's  soul  is  not  evolved,  but 
created  ;  its  essentia  is  not  determined  from  without, 
but  determines  from  within  the  direction  in  which  the 
culture  shall  take  place.  Thus  we  are  led  to  detect  the 
central  sophism.  There  is  a  development  going  on  in 
all  created  things  ;  but  it  is  only  the  development  of 
natures  that  preexisted,  changing  not  their  essentia,  but 
the  completeness  of  the  essentia  in  individuals.  The 
individual  of  a  genus  is  developed  into  larger  size  and 
powers  ;  no  genus  is  developed  into  another  gemts,  be- 
cause the  original  essentia  is  predeterminant  of  the  re- 
sults of  culture. 

We  have  seen  that  the  regulative  law  of  every  being's 
rational  spontaneity  is  found  in  its  original  or  native 
disposition.  Thus,  the  regulative  law  of  the  divine  free- 
agency  is  found  in  God's  eternal  holiness.  That  of  the 
angels  is  found  in  the  image  of  God,  in  which  they 
were  created.  What  is  man's  ethical  disposition  ?  The 
answer  to  this  question  must  be  found  by  the  philos- 
opher, by  a  careful  observation  of  his  own  consciousness 
and  of  the  conduct  of  his  fellow  -  men.  That  man  is 
a  free  agent  in  all. his  sins,  he  knows  intuitively. 
That  he  has,  by  nature,  an  intuition  of  the  reason, 
called  conscience,  informing  him  of  obligation  to  the 
right,  and  of  the  ill-desert  of  his  sin,  I  shall  prove  in 
the  sequel  of  this  chapter.  That  his  original  disposi- 
tion is  opposed  to  this  intuition  of  conscience,  every 
man  may  learn  by  faithfully  consulting  his  own  con- 
sciousness. To  read  this  testimony  aright,  a  few  cau- 
tions must  be  observed.  It  is  true  that,  until  the  man 
is  far  gone  in  evil,  he  cannot  violate  his  own  rational 
judgment  of  obligation,  without  pain  of  conscience  ;  but 
let  us  not  confound  this  pain  with  opposition  of  the  will 
to  sin,  for  the  pain  of  conscience  is  involuntary.  It  is 
also  true  that  no  man's  will  inclines  him  to  do  all  the 


304  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

sins  possible  to  him,  and  that  social  affections,  love  of 
applause,  interest,  habit,  and  stress  of  conscience,  cause 
most  men  voluntarily  to  perform  many  duties.  But 
there  remains  the  unhappy  fact,  that  by  all  men  some 
recognized  duties  are  left  unfulfilled,  and  this  deliberate- 
ly and  obstinately,  as  long  as  they  remain  in  their  nat- 
ural estate.  There  is,  then,  a  certain  extent  to  which 
the  law  of  self-will,  as  opposed  to  the  law  of  right  ex- 
pressed in  the  conscience,  is  the  regulative  disposition 
of  even  the  better  sort.  When  we  inquire  as  to  the 
strength  or  decisiveness  of  this  law,  we  find  that  it  is 
dominant,  to  a  certain  extent,  in  all ;  there  are  some 
recognized  duties  in  each  man's  case  which  his  heart  is 
fully  set  in  him  to  postpone,  and  some  indulgences,  con- 
demned by  his  own  moral  reason, which  he  is  inexorably 
determined  not  immediately  to  relinquish.  When  we 
inquire  of  the  prevalence  of  this  disposition,  we  find  it 
universal  among  all  natural  men.  When  we  seek  for  its 
source,  we  trace  it  in  each  person  to  the  very  earliest 
date  of  conscious  choice.  This  law  of  self-will  is  the  ear- 
liest disposition  which  each  one  manifests,  and  the  great 
problem  of  moral  education  is  to  repress  and  control  it. 
We  thus  reach,  by  the  testimony  of  universal  experi- 
ence, this  fact :  that,  while  the  reason  intuitively  and 
inevitably  recognizes  the  imperative  of  conscience  as 
the  highest  and  properest  rule  of  the  rational  creature, 
the  will  resists  and  rejects  that  rule,  to  some  extent,  in 
ever}7  man,  with  an  opposition  equally  inexorable.  This, 
surely,  is  the  most  solemn  fact  of  human  nature  !  It 
shows  that  there  is  an  original  and  fundamental  war- 
fare propagated'  in  our  race.  Our  nature  is  manifestly 
dislocated.  It  has  obviously  been  the  subject  of  a  catas- 
trophe. How,  or  when,  philosophy  cannot  tell  us  ;  and 
for  this  reason,  most  of  the  mere  philosophers  have  at- 
tempted to  hide  the  great  fact  from  their  eyes,  thus 
introducing  confusion  and  abortion  into  all  the  practical 
resulis  of  their  speculations.  But,  surely,  the  proper 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         305 

office  of  science,  if  it  is  faithful,  is  to  include  all  the 
natural  facts  of  the  case  ;  and  so,  to  make  a  correct  and 
complete  generalization  of  its  data.  But  I  have  shown, 
by  a  very  simple  appeal  to  men's  conscious  experience, 
that  while  human  nature  presents  these  two  fundamental 
facts,  Spontaneity  and  Reason,  there  is  now  a  radical 
opposition  between  the  spontaneity  and  the  reason, 
which  is  as  original  in  our  present  native  state  as  the 
two  faculties  themselves. 

But  are  the  moral  judgments  of  the  reason  funda- 
mental ?  This  is  the  question  which  has  been  post- 
poned, with  the  promise  of  a  searching  examination. 
In  the  Fourth  Chapter,  the  answer  given  by  Sensualism 
was  stated,  and  the  bearings  of  the  two  rival  doctrines 
upon  philosophy  were  explained.  The  issue  there  made 
up,  we  will  now  proceed  to  debate.  Is  any  one  of  the 
theories  tenable  which  Sensualistic  philosophers  have 
invented  to  account  for  the  moral  sentiments  of  men, 
as  they  actually  present  themselves  in  society,  and  as 
they  were  described  in  the  beginning  of  my  Fourth 
Chapter  ?  I  undertake  to  show  that  none  of  them  are 
tenable. 

The  Selfish  System  has  presented  itself  in  varied  forms, 
from  Hobbes  (who  made  the  desire  of  natural  good  for 
self  the  whole  moral  motive),  through  Mandeville  (who 
thought  the  instinctive  desire  for  the  selfish  pleasure 
of  applause  was  the  moral  motive),  to  Paley,  who  made 
the  desire  of  everlasting  future  welfare  the  moral 
motive.  The  system  has  always  this  characteristic  :  it 
resolves  the  moral  good  into  mere  natural  good,  and 
virtue  into  enlightened  selfishness.  When  pointed  to 
the  exertions  of  the  affections  usually  termed  disin- 
terested, as  gratitude,  sympathy,  benevolence,  it  at- 
tempts to  represent  the  instinctive  after-pleasure  attend- 
ing the  disinterested  acts  as  the  real  motive,  and  thus 
refines  them  also  into  an  astute  selfishness.  Thus, 


306  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Hobbes,  when  walking  in  London  with  a  sounder 
philosopher,  gave  a  shilling  to  a  cripple.  When  his 
companion  said  to  him  :  There,  you  have  refuted  your 
own  doctrine  by  giving  voluntary  aid  to  this  suffering 
stranger,  Hobbes  answered :  No  ;  the  real  motive  was 
still  self-interested,  being  composed  of  the  relief  which 
his  own  sympathetic  pain  experienced  in  giving  the 
succor  to  the  object,  and  of  the  selfish  pleasure  of  the 
applause  associated  with  the  act. 

To  all  the  phases  of  this  selfish  system  I  object,  first : 
that  on  such  a  scheme  the  notions  of  right,  of  duty, 
and  obligation,  and  of  free-agency  could  never  have 
arisen  in  the  mind,  and  would  have  no  relevancy  or 
meaning.  Let  one  frame  the  proposition,  "  Whatever 
favors  self-interest  is  right,"  the  very  employment  of 
the  word  "  right"  recognizes  the  fact  that  the  mind  has 
a  standard  other  than  that  of  self-interest.  Any  analy- 
sis of  our  idea  of  our  own  rights  is  utterly  violated  and 
falsified  when  made  identical  with  self-interest.  Does 
Hobbes  say,  for  instance,  that  each  man's  self-interest 
is  his  own  natural  right?  But  according  to  his  'own 
showing,  this  Bright"  in  A,  would  imply  no  corre- 
sponding duty  in  him,  and  no  obligation  upon  his  neigh- 
bor B,  to  respect  it,  and  no  moral  recognition  on  the 
part  of  any  other.  Anybody  has  an  equal  '"  right  "  to 
deprive  A  of  the  enjoyment  of  his  "right!  "  Whereas 
every  man's  common  sense  tells  him  that  the  very  nat- 
ure of  a  right  involves  a  moral  title  to  its  possession, 
and  a  corresponding  moral  obligation  to  respect  it, 
resting  on  others.  In  other  words,  does  not  every  sane 
mind  recognize  a  distinction  between  "a  right"  and 
the  accident  of  possession  and  enjoyment? 

If  self-interest  be  the  whole  moral  motive,  then  when 
the  question  shall  arise,  whether  I  shall  do,  or  forego,  a 
certain  act,  I  cannot  be  consistently  required  to  con- 
sider anything  but  this  :  whether  my  doing  of  it  will 
promote  that  form  of  my  selfish  pleasure  which  I  hap- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         307 

pen  to  prefer.  If  I  say,  "  This  act  will  most  gratify 
me,"  the  argument  is  at  an  end.  Any  judgment  of 
obligation  to  restrain  myself  from  any  act  is  baseless. 
Will  Epicureanism  attempt,  for  instance,  to  interpose 
an  "ought  not"  between  me  and  any  natural  indul- 
gence, by  saying :  "  This  proposed  sensual  pleasure 
will,  indeed,  promote  animal  enjoyment,  but  hinder 
aesthetic  or  intellectual  enjoyment,  which  are  higher 
and  purer.  And  since  pleasure  is  your  rational  su- 
preme good,  you  are  bound  to  prefer  the  more  to  the 
less"?  If  I  choose  to  reply:  "This  animal  good  is  to 
me  the  larger,"  the  argument  is  ended ;  all  ground  of 
obligation  is  gone.  If  no  indulgence  is  in  itself  less  or 
more  virtuous  than  another,  then,  in  the  face  of  an  ex- 
isting selfish  preference,  no  possible  argument  of  obli- 
gation can  be  constructed  to  restrain  from  any  act.  But 
are  all  the  world  wrong  in  supposing  that  there  is  such 
a  bond  as  obligation  ? 

If  the  sensualistic  psychology  is  true,  then  the  desire 
for  natural  good,  which  it  makes  the  whole  moral  mo- 
tive, is  a  passive  affection  of  the  soul.  It  is  no  more 
voluntary,  when  the  object  of  desire  is  presented,  than 
is  pain  when  one  is  struck,  or  chill  when  one  is  deluged 
with  cold  water.  But  this  desire  for  the  selfish  good  is 
the  efficient  of  the  volition.  Where  now  is  that  free- 
agency,  which,  we  intuitively  judge,  is  rudimental  to  all 
moral  action  and  responsibility?  Man  is  no  longer 
self-directed  by  rational,  subjective  motives,  but  drawn 
hither  and  thither  like  an  animated  puppet,  by  external 
forces..  It  is  precisely  as  absurd  to  hold  him  bound  by 
moral  obligation,  or  deserving  of  punishment  for  vio- 
lating the  restraint,  as  the  hungry  sow,  which  devours 
the  neighbor's  corn.  Penalties,  on  this  theory,  be- 
come the  mere  expedients  of  the  stronger  animals  for 
protecting  their  own  selfishness.  And  as  this  must 
remain  true  for  the  future  also,  all  religious  sanctions 
would  be  out  of  the  question. 


308  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Second :  I  object  to  the  selfish  scheme  from  the  pre- 
cedence of  instinctive  desire  to  calculation,  in  human 
action.  That  theory  supposes  that  the  selfish  pleasure 
apprehended  by  the  mind  in  performing  an  act  must 
always  be  the  motive  for  doing  it.  But  on  this  false 
analysis,  how  could  the  man  ever  have  the  volition  to 
perform  the  act  for  the  first  time  ?  The  experience  of 
the  pleasure  folowing  the  act  only  comes  after !  This 
simple  argument  shows  that,  in  the  first  instance  of  voli- 
tion, the  motive  must  have  been  instinctive.  What 
prompts  the  new-born  infant  to  draw  nourishment  from 
the  mother's  breast?  Will  one  say,  the  experienced 
sweetness  of  the  milk?  But  it  must  have  been  drawn 
first,  in  order  that  the  sweetness  might  be  experienced. 
The  first  volition  must  have  been  prompted  by  instinct. 
This  preposterous  analysis  assigns  the  effect  as  the 
cause  of  its  own  cause.  Let  us  now  apply  this  illustra- 
tion to  the  moral  volition.  An  agent  performs  what 
the  world  calls  a  disinterested  moral  act  (moral  because 
it  is  disinterested).  The  selfish  system  says  that  its 
motive  was,  in  fact,  the  selfish  anticipation  of  the  pleas- 
ure experienced  by  the  agent  in  its  performance.  But 
the  act  must  be  first  performed,  in  order  that  any  such 
result  may  be  experienced.  Therefore,  that  experienced 
result  was  not  the  motive  of  the  first  act,  however  it 
may  enter  as  a  part-motive  in  its  subsequent  repetitions. 
But  if  the  subsequent  acts  differ  essentially  from  the 
first,  then  the  whole  do  not  form  one  and  the  same  class 
of  acts;  and  the  same  moral  nature  cannot  be  predicat- 
ed of  the  first,  and  of  the  subsequent  ones.  The  first, 
we  have  proved,  could  not  have  had  the  selfish  motive, 
and  must  have  therefore  been  disinterested.  The  con- 
sciousness of  having  done  disinterestedly  gives  the 
agent  an  inward  pleasure.  According  to  Hobbes,  this 
after-pleasure,  which  proceeded  from  the  consciousness 
that  the  act  was  unselfish,  became  a  motive  of  mere 
selfishness,  and,  moreover,  the  cause  of  its  own  cause ! 


Refutation  of  ScnsuMstic  Ethics.         309 

The  absurdity  of  the  scheme  is  further  proved  by  this  : 
If  the  fact  that  a  disinterested  act  results  in  pleasure  to 
him  who  did  it,  proves  that  act  selfish  ;  then  by  parity 
of  reasoning,  the  fact  that  a  selfish,  malignant  act  usual- 
ly results  in  pain  to  the  criminal  agent,  proves  this  act 
disinterested  and  virtuous. 

Third  :  Were  the  selfish  theory  true,  the  adaptation 
of  another  person's  conduct  to  confer  personal  advan- 
tage on  us  would  be  synonymous,  in  our  eyes,  with 
merit.  The  villain  who  shared  with  us  the  rewards  of 
his  misdeeds,  would  evoke  the  same  moral  sentiments 
with  the  virtuous  mother  who  blessed  us  with  her 
generous  sacrifices.  There  would  be  no  generic  differ- 
ence between  the  hollow  flattery  of  the  courtier,  for 
the  monster  on  whose  bounty  he  fattened,  and  the  ap- 
probation of  the  virtuous  for  the  most  splendid  bene- 
factions of  the  patriot. 

Fourth  :  If  our  notion  of  good  acts  is  nothing  but  a 
generalization  of  the  idea  of  acts  conducive  to  our  self- 
interest,  he  who  has  most  experimental  knowledge  of 
human  affairs  (that  is  to  say,  he  who  is  most  hackneyed 
in  this  world's  ways)  should  have  the  strongest  and 
clearest  apprehension  of  moral  distinctions,  because  he 
would  most  clearly  apprehend  this  tendency  of  actions. 
He  who  was  wholly  inexperienced  could  have  no  moral 
sentiments.  But  is  this  so  ?  Do  we  not  find  that  the 
most  unsophisticated  have  always  the  most  vivid  moral 
sympathies?  The  inexperienced  youth,  ill-informed  of 
the  whole  ulterior  consequences  of  crimes,  burns  with 
moral  indignation,  while  the  hackneyed  man  of  the 
world  is  callous. 

But,  fifth  :  The  crowning  absurdity  of  this  selfish 
theory  appears  here  :  That  our  consciousness  always 
teaches  us,  the  moral  pleasure  we  have  in  well-doing 
depends  wholly  upon  our  feeling  the  virtuous  act  was 
not  prompted  by  selfishness;  the  moment  we  feel  that 
this  was  our  prime  motive,  our  self-approbation  is  wholly 


310  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

marred.  Indeed,  the  best  and  the  sufficient  argument 
against  this  miserable  theory  would  be  the  instinctive 
loathing  and  denial  uttered  against  it  by  every  rightly- 
constituted  soul.  The  honest  man  knows,  by  his  im- 
mediate consciousness,  that  when  he  does  right,  selfish- 
ness is  not  his  motive;  and  that  if  it  were,  he  would  be 
utterly  self-condemned.  As  Cousin  nervously  remarks  : 
Our  consciousness  tells  us  that  the  approbation  we  feel 
for  disinterested  virtue  is  wholly  disinterested,  and  it  is 
impossible  for  us  t;j  feel  it,  unless  we  feel  that  the  agent 
who  pleases  us  was  disinterested  in  his  act.  Thus  a 
thousand  things  in  the  acts,  the  language,  and  the  affec- 
tions of  men  are  utterly  irreconcilable  with  this  hateful 
analysis,  and  show  it  to  be  as  unphilosophical  as  de- 
grading. 

In  the  next  place,  I  group  together  three  theories  of 
the  nature  of  virtue,  which  really  amount  to  the  same : 
That  of  David  Hume,  who  taught  that  we  appre- 
hend an  act  to  be  virtuous  because  it  is  useful  to  man- 
kind: That  of  Jeremy  Bentham,  who  taught  that  vir- 
tue is  pursuing  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number j 
And  that  of  some  New  England  speculators,  who  teach 
that  virtue  consists  in  benevolence.  The  latter  is  practi- 
cally the  same  with  the  two  former.  This  appears  from 
the  fact,  that  the  practical  expression  of  benevolence  is 
beneficence.  The  useful  is  but  the  beneficent ;  so  that 
it  comes  to  the  same  to  represent  utility  as  the  essence 
of  virtue,  or  to  represent  benevolence  as  such.  The 
latter  theory  is  a  natural  offshoot  of  that  speculation  of 
Jonathan  Edwards,  which  makes  virtue  consist  in  love 
of  being  \i\  general;  and  its  filiation  may  be  seen  in  the 
remarks  just  made.  These  schemes  derive  all  their 
plausibility  from  three  facts  :  It  has  been  so  often  said 
that  "honesty  is  the  best  policy,"  that  men  come  to 
think  it  is  the  goodness  of  the  policy  which  makes  it 
honest.  Again  :  to  promote  utility,  or  to  do  acts  of 
beneficence  to  mankind,  is  right  and  praiseworthy  in  a 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         3 1 1 

multitude  of  cases:  the  duties  of  benevolence  are  du- 
ties, and  a  very  extensive  class  thereof;  but  not  for  this 
reason  exhaustive  of  all  duties.  Once  more:  in  the 
business  of  legislation,  the  expedient  is  very  largely  the 
guide  of  the  magistrate,  and  civil  governments  punish 
crimes  chiefly  in  proportion  to  their  tendency  to  injure 
the  well-being  of  society.  This  might  easily  deceive 
one  who,  like  Bentham,  was  far  more  a  legislator  than 
philosopher,  and  lead  him  to  suppose  that  he  had  found 
in  the  beneficence  of  acts  the  essential  element  of  their 
virtue.  He  forgets  that  human  laws,  while  they  adjust 
their  penalties  to  the  intrinsic  elements  of  wrong-doers, 
if  the  legislators  are  righteous,  yet  propose  as  their- 
proximate  end  the  protection  of  human  well-being  in 
this  life,  and  leave  the  final  and  exact  apportionment  of 
men's  deserts  to  God,  as  His  proper  function. 

The  "  Benevolence  scheme  "  appears  in  its  most  in- 
genious, and  least  obnoxious  form,  in  the  hand  of  Ed- 
wards, as  Love  for  Being  as  being.  But  Edwards  him- 
self admits  that  distinction  made  by  the  current  of  eth- 
ical writers,  as  by  the  good  sense  of  mankind,  between 
the  love  of  moral  complacency  and  the  love  of  benevo- 
lence, or  simple  love  of  kindness.  The  latter  is  the 
benevolent  feeling  which  the  good  exercise  toward 
their  fellow-men,  simply  as  sentient  rational  beings,  ir- 
respective of  any  moral  attractiveness.  The  former  is 
the  love  and  delight  of  which  moral  excellence  is  the 
object.  It  is  impossible  for  the  Utilitarian,  or  any  one 
else,  to  banish  the  distinction.  For  instance:  Holy 
Writ  saith  that  God  loves  sinners,  and  that  God  hates 
sinners:  Are  these  sheer  contradictions?  It  says  that 
Gocl  loves  the  righteous  and  hates  the  evil  ;  and  also 
that  "  God  commendeth  his  love  to  us,  in  that  while  we 
were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us."  Now  the  only 
possible  solution  of  these  statements  is  in  the  distinc- 
tion just  drawn.  God  loves  sinners,  despite  their  moral 
unworthiness,  with  the  love  of  benevolence:  He  loves 


312  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

the  righteous,  on  account  of  their  moral  worthiness, 
with  the  love  of  complacency.  The  same  things  are 
true  of  wise  and  virtuous  men:  the  righteous  parent 
loves  his  reprobate  son,  despite  his  tin  worthiness,  with 
the  love  of  benevolence;  but  his  virtuous  son,  with  the 
love  of  complacency  also,  on  account  of  his  moral  worthi- 
ness. Now  this  unavoidable  distinction  overthrows  Ed- 
wards' scheme.  When  he  defines  virtue  as  the  love  of 
Being  as  being,  is  it  the  love  of  benevolence,  or  the 
love  of  moral  complacency?  He  is  compelled  to  an- 
swer, as  he  does,  that  he  means  the  love  of  benevo- 
lence. For,  if  the  affection  intended  were  the  love  of 
complacency,  this  would  at  once  imply  a  moral  object 
exciting  it;  and  the  .essential  element  of  virtue  would 
thus  be  inevitably  differentiated  from  the  love,  as  ob- 
ject and  emotion.  Edwards  is  too  perspicuous  to  fall 
into  that  contradiction  ;  and  so  he  defines  that  love  of 
being  as  being  which,  he  thinks,  constitutes  the  essence 
of  virtue,  as  the  love  of  benevolence.  But  this  leaves 
him  involved  in  another  contradiction.  If  this  love  of 
being  as  being  is  of  the  essence  of  virtue,  it  must,  of 
course,  be  an  object  of  moral  complacency.  But  is  it 
not  virtuous  to  be  morally  pleased  with  the  essence  of 
virtue?  Surely.  Thus  the  love  of  complacency  is 
again  identified  with  its  object,  and  the  inevitable  dis- 
tinction between  object  and  subjective  affection  is 
again  confounded.  The  only  escape  from  this  labyrinth 
of  contradictions  is  to  say,  with  us,  that  the  love  of 
benevolence  is  (not  the  essence  of  all  virtue,  but)  under 
proper  limitations,  one  of  the  virtues,  distinguishable 
as  species  under  genus,  from  all  the  other  virtues,  as,  for 
instance,  from  that  other  virtuous  affection,  the  love  of 
moral  complacency. 

It  may  be  remarked  again,  on  this  "  benevolence 
scheme  "  of  moral  obligation,  that  it  tacitly  assumes  the 
existence  and  validity  of  the  moral  intuition,  and  of 
the  distinct  category  of  judgments  with  which  it  pro- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         313 

fesses  to  dispense.  Suppose  an  avowed  advocate  of  the 
Selfish  system  to  demand  of  Bentham,  or  of  Edwards  : 
Why  is  benevolence  virtue?  Why  is  it  my  duty  to 
make  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number  my 
moral  end  ?  They  could  find  no  valid  answer  until 
they  had  recognized  the  original  distinction  between 
advantage  and  right,  and  the  obligation  for  the  latter, 
as  distinguished  from  the  former. 

But  I  charge  that  these  utilitarian  schemes  of  ethics 
are  all,  in  fact,  modifications  of  the  selfish  system.  They 
loudly  claim  to  stand  in  contrast  to  the  latter,  because 
they  profess  to  propose,  not  the  advantage  of  the 
agent's  self,  but  the  well-being  of  mankind,  as  the  ele- 
ment of  all  virtue,  But  as  Jouffroy  well  argues,  they 
really  involve  the  whole  vice  of  the  selfish  system.  For, 
when  the  question  is  raised  :  Why  do  men  regard  the 
useful  (or  beneficent)  as  the  right?  the  answer  must  be; 
Because  natural  good  is  man's  supreme  rational  end. 
But  must  it  not  follow  thence,  that  desire  of  natural 
good  is  man's  highest  motive?  Thus  the  moral  motive, 
and  the  all-important  distinction  between  natural  good, 
or  mere  advantage,  and  moral  good,  are  as  completely 
left  out  of  the  analysis  as  by  Hobbes  himself.  The 
same  absurd  psychology  is  also  assumed,  which  makes 
desire  of  good  the  result  of  experienced  good,  whereas 
the  desire  must  exist  and  act  .first,  or  the  good  would 
never  be  experienced.  .  But  farther,  these  schemes  all 
propose  aggregate  humanity  as  the  true  End  of  our 
moral  action.  This  is  involved  in  the  doctrine  that 
promoting  the  well-being  of  mankind  is  the  very  es- 
sence of  all  virtue.  But  our  supreme  End  is  virtually 
our  God.  These  speculations,  then,  present  the  singu- 
lar coincidence  of  concluding  with  the  materialist  athe- 
ist, Comte,  that  aggregate  humanity  is  the  Great  Being. 
But  worse  yet :  as  the  individual  agent  is  a  part  of  that 
aggregate,  he  is  a  part  of  his  own  God  !  He  is,  more- 
over, the  nearest  attainable  part  of  that  End  ;  he  is  the 


314  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

only  part  for  whose  welfare  he  is  directly  responsible: 
he  is  the  part  whose  welfare  is  most  within  his  own 
keeping,  and  for  which  therefore  he  can  labor  most  ef- 
fectually. If  the  natural  good  of  mankind  is  the  proper 
end  of  all  action,  then  his  own  personal  good  must  be 
the  properest  end  of  his  own  actions.  I  see  not  then, 
how,  from  the  Utilitarian  premises,  the  practical  con- 
clusion can  be  avoided,  that  each  man  is  his  own  prop- 
erest supreme  End — his  own  God !  What  more  in- 
tense expression  could  be  given  to  the  most  utter  self- 
ishness? It  is  instructive  to  see  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins, 
an  outspoken  advocate  of  the  benevolence  scheme, 
after  narrating  through  many  pages  its  disinterested- 
ness, coming  (in  his  First  Vol.,  Chap.  8)  to  this  conclu- 
sion, and  avowing  that  self-interest  must  remain  practi- 
cally each  man's  immediate  guide.  Thus  we  are  led 
back  to  the  vilest  results  of  the  selfish  system.  Such, 
experience  teaches  us,  is  the  practical  tendency.  While 
the  Utilitarian  schemes  profess  great  equity  and  phi- 
lanthropy, they  end  in  making  their  votaries  supremely 
selfish  and  remorselessly  unfeeling.  The  practical  mor- 
alist may  here  learn,  both  from  reason  and  experience, 
that  no  basis  is  laid  for  true  virtue  until  the  Right  is 
clearly  separated  from  the  Advantageous,  and  is  made  the 
single  rule  of  the  soul.  No  man  begins  to  be  truly 
honest  until  he  forgets  to  think  of  the  maxim,  that 
"  honesty  is  the  best  policy." 

I  argue,  second,  these  schemes  do  not  correctly  state 
the  facts  of  our  consciousness.  The  mind  does  not  al- 
ways feel  that  the  obligation  to  an  act  is  its  utility  or 
beneficence ;  nor  that  the  merit  of  the  agent  arises  out 
of,  or  is  proportioned  to,  the  advantage  his  act  effects. 
How  often,  for  instance,  do  questions  arise  as  to  the 
obligation  of  speaking  truth,  where,  if  the  utility  were 
the  element  of  the  obligation,  none  would  be  felt !  Yet 
in  such  cases,  the  soul  might  feel  most  guilty  had  false- 
hood been  uttered.  These  schemes  do  not  sufficiently 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         3 1 5 

explain  the  high  obligation  to  honor  the  dead,  whose 
well-being  cannot  be  affected  by  us.  Especially  is  it 
impossible,  on  these  principles,  to  explain  that  highest 
of  all  obligations,  to  be  grateful  to  God,  to  worship 
Him,  and  to  honor  Him  with  our  offerings.  For,  these 
duties  cannot  promote  His  well-being,  inasmuch  as  He 
is  already  supremely  happy,  and  as  He  is  independent 
and  unchangeable.  Will  it  be  said  that  these  acts  to- 
ward God  are  only  obligatory  because  of  their  reflex 
tendency  to  promote  human  welfare?  This  subterfuge 
would  exhibit  the  profanity  of  the  whole  theory  in  the 
most  glaring  light ;  for  they  would  make  mankind  the 
true  End,  and  therefore  the  real  God,  and  Jehovah  a 
species  of  omnipotent  conveniency,  and  servitor  to  His 
creatures.  Again  :  were  beneficence  or  utility  the  es- 
sence of  virtue,  the  rightfulness  of  acts  would  only  be 
apprehended  so  far  as  experience  had  given  us  knowl- 
edge of  the  beneficence  or  mischievousness  of  their 
effects.  Is  this  so?  Does  not  conscience  lash  us  for 
secret  sins  which  leave  no  loss  of  health,  capacity,  or 
reputation  behind  them,  so  far  as  we  know,  and  lash  us 
all  the  more  promptly  and  keenly,  as  we  are  inexperi- 
enced of  crime  and  its  wretched  consequences  ?  Again  : 
were  this  theory  true,  all  really  useful  things  should 
affect  us  with  similar  sentiments  of  moral  approbation  : 
a  convenient  bureau,  or  a  good  milch  cow,  as  truly  as  a 
faithful  friend  or  a  benevolent  rescuer.  Dees  Hume 
attempt  to  escape  by  saying  that  it  is  the  rational  and 
voluntary  useful  act  which  affects  us  with  the  sentiment 
of  approbation?  Then,  we  reply,  he  has  given  up  the 
case ;  for  evidently  the  morality  of  the  act  is  not  in  its 
utility,  but  in  its  rational  motive.  Once  more:  if  util- 
ity is  the  virtuous  element,  then  the  degree  of  useful- 
ness should  be  the  measure  also  of  merit.  We  should 
always  feel  these  acts  to  be  most  meritorious  which 
were  most  advantageous.  But  do  we?  Which  en- 
nobles Daniel,  for  instance,  most  in  our  eyes — the  hero- 


316  Sensrialistic  Philosophy. 

ism  which  refused  to  bow  his  conscience  to  an  impious 
prohibition  of  the  king  of  Persia,  when  the  penalty 
was  the  lion's  den  ;  or  the  diligence  which  dispensed 
order  and  prosperity  over  one  hundred  and  twenty 
provinces?  The  extravagant  conclusions  of  Godwin 
must  also  be  accepted :  that  duties  must  be  graded  by 
us  according  to  the  public  importance  of  the  persons 
who  are  their  objects;  so  that  it  might  be  the  s-on's 
duty  to  see  his  own  obscure  father  drown,  in  order  to 
save  the  more  valuable  life  of  some  stranger. 

Third:  Were  the  Utilitarian  schemes  true,  it  might, 
in  some  cases,  be  utterly  impossible  to  convince  a  man 
that  it  is  immoral  to  u  do  evil  that  good  may  come." 
Let  us  suppose  that  the  consequences  of  an  act  morally 
evil,  so  far  as  seen  by  the  agent,  appeared  on  the  whole 
beneficial ;  if  the  beneficence  of  the  action  constitutes 
its  rightness,  it  is  hard  to  see  how  the  person  can  come 
to  any  other  conclusion  than  that  the  results  make  it 
right.  The  evasion  from  this  is  to  say,  that  experience 
teaches  us  that  evil  actions  are  sure,  in  the  end,  and  on 
the  whole,  to  result  in  mischief,  notwithstanding  pres- 
ent appearances  of  utility ;  and  that  this  more  recon- 
dite truth  will  teach  us,  even  on  the  Utilitarian  princi- 
ple, never  to  "  do  evil  that  good  mav  come."  This  so- 
lution is  inadequate :  for  first,  the  widest  experience  of 
the  results  of  moral  action  would  be  necessary,  before 
one  would  reach  this  moral  rule.  And  next,  the  in- 
trinsic distinction  between  the  virtuous  and  the  bene- 
ficial is  acknowledged  by  this  plea;  for  the  cases  in 
hand  are  acknowledged  not  to  belong  to  the  class  of 
the  virtuous,  although,  so  far  as  present  knowledge 
goes,  they  do  belong  apparently  to  the  class  of  the 
beneficial.  The  two  categories  must  exist,  then,  in  the 
mind  a  priori  to  the  experience,  or  else  the  discrimina- 
tion would  never  be  made. 

On  all  the  utilitarian  and  benevolence  schemes,  we 
must  falsify  the  proper  theory  of  punishment  in  order 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics-         3 1 7 

to  be  consistent.  Of  course,  righteous  punishment 
must  be  a  righteous,  a  moral  proceeding.  But,  says 
the  utilitarian,  the  righteousness  of  all  acts  is  their 
beneficial,  or  useful  tendency.  Then,  the  usefulness  of 
penalties  against  sin  must  be  the  sole  explanation  and 
justification  of  the  punitive  policy.  Fora  penalty  must 
be,  in  its  very  nature,  a  physical  evil  in  itself.  If  benev- 
olence is  righteousness,  and  the  natural  good  is  the 
properest  rational  end,  how  can  any  righteous  ruler  be 
justified  in  doing  positive,  natural  evil  to  a  fellow  creat- 
ure ?  This  is  the  problem  which  the  utilitarian  has  to 
answer.  The  only  answer  possible  for  him  is,  that  the 
inflictions  of  natural  evil  as  a  penalty  on  a  transgressor 
is  justified  solely  by  its  useful  tendency  to  prevent 
transgressions.  In  this  matter,  sin  is  treated  simply  as 
a  mischief,  or  as  contra-beneficial,  and  not  for  its  in- 
trinsic ill  desert ;  and  penalty  is  employed  simply  as  a 
practical  expedient,  and  the  only  one  in  the  ruler's 
power  which  will  restrain  free  agents.  Punishment 
cannot  be  regarded  as  the  righteous  equivalent  of  the 
evil  desert  of  sin,  and  as  designed  to  satisfy  the  intrin- 
sic demands  of  justice  outraged  by  transgression.  Now, 
my  argument  is,  that  this  view  of  the  nature  of  punish- 
ment flows  necessarily  from  the  utilitarian  theory ;  but 
this  doctrine  as  to  the  nature  of  punishment  is  false; 
and  therefore  the  theory  of  the  utilitarian  is  false.  That 
such  is  not  the  nature  and  intent  of  punishment  is 
proved  by  the  consciences  of  both  the  innocent  and  the 
guilty,  the  former  demanding  righteous  satisfaction  for 
broken  law,  and  the  latter  confessing  the  judgment  in 
their  fear  and  remorse.  The  legislation  of  all  civilized 
States  proves  the  same ;  for  none  of  them  accept  re- 
pentance as  a  full  satisfaction  for  crime  (however  it  may 
combine  with  other  circumstances  in  defining  the  cases 
suitable  for  the  exercise  of  mercy  towards  the  con- 
victed). There  is  no  country  whose  statute  law  ac- 
cepts even  a  genuine  repentance  as  justification  and 


318  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ground  of  full  acquittal  for  the  convicted  murderer. 
The  general  rule  still  is,  life  for  life,  and  blood  for 
blood.  But  were  prevention  of  crime  the  only  object 
of  penalty,  repentance  meets  that  requirement ;  if  it  is 
genuine,  it  guarantees  us  against  a  repetition  of  the 
crime.  Again  :  on  this  utilitarian  theory  of  penalty,  it 
might  be  more  righteous  to  punish  an  innocent  person 
in  some  cases,  than  the  guilty,  namely,  where  the  trans- 
gressor would  be  more  deterred  and  impressed  by  the 
former.  For,  if  penalty  is  only  a  preventive  policy, 
of  course  the  most  effectual  preventive  is  the  most 
righteous.  Such  a  case  may  very  easily  occur.  For 
instance,  a  chief  magistrate  of  a  city  is  seeking  to  re- 
strain a  termagant,  drunken  woman  of  ill  fame,  by  con- 
finement or  even  by  stripes.  She  mocks  at  all  his 
threats.  What  is  the  house  of  correction  but  a  home 
by  contrast  luxurious,  to  her  whose  ordinary  pillow  is 
a  curb-stone?  Shame?  What  is  shame  to  her?  She 
has  sounded  all  its  depths  already.  Stripes  even  are 
naught  to  her,  whose  remorse  lacerates  her  more  keen- 
ly than  the  scourge.  The  magistrate  is  baffled.  But 
now  some  one  remarks,  that  there  is  one  green  and 
tender  spot  in  this  arid  heart ;  she  has  a  delicate  girl, 
still  uncontaminated,  who  is  the  only  object  of  love  she 
recognizes.  Seize  that  innocent  girl,  and  disregarding 
her  just  protest,  tear  her  tender  shoulders  with  the 
scourge ;  this  will  reach  the  obdurate  heart  of  the 
mother.  Now,  if  penalty  is  merely  an  expedient  of  re- 
pression, why  is  not  this,  the  efficacious  expedient,  the 
righteous  one?  But  every  right  heart  cries  out  against 
it  as  monstrous  ! 

Especially  is  this  theory  of  punishment  absurd,  when 
applied  to  God's  punitive  government.  For,  first:  He 
is  omnipotent,  and  is  always  able,  if  He  chooses,  to  con- 
vert and  sanctify  transgressors  instead  of  punishing 
them,  even  temporarily.  We  must  remember  that,  if 
this  benevolence  scheme  be  adopted,  it  must  be  applied 


Refutation  of  Scnsualistic  Ethics.          319 

to  God's  virtue,  as  well  as  man's;  and  then  we  have 
benevolence  as  His  only  moral  attribute,  or  the  whole 
of  his  Holiness.  The  problem,  then,  is  this  :  God  is 
infinitely  and  only  benevolent:  He  is  also  infinitely 
powerful  and  omniscient.  Hence,  He  must  see  that 
it  is  a  more  benevolent  preventive  of  transgression 
to  convert  Satan,  than  to  punish  him  ;  and  a  more 
effectual  one,  for  the  punishment  has  not  restrained 
him.  For  such  a  Ruler  as  God  to  punish  him,  was, 
therefore,  a  gratuitous  propagation  of  natural  evil, 
and  disregard  of  the  natural  advantage  of  the  universe, 
which  advantage  should  have  been  God's  first  motive. 
The  same  inevitable  proof  would  condemn  every  tem- 
poral penalty  which  Providence  is  inflicting,  before  our 
eyes,  upon  men  and  nations.  But  when  we  come  to 
God's  everlasting  punishments,  the  case  is  terribly 
aggravated.  For  punishments  that  are  never  to  end 
are  not  designed,  of  course,  to  make  the  sufferer  better. 
Satan  is  not  to  be  sanctified  by  his  everlasting  woe ;  he 
is  to  remain  an  increasing  sinner  forever.  When  om- 
nipotent benevolence  adopts  this  plan,  explanation  is  im- 
possible upon  the  utilitarian  theory.  Does  any  one  say, 
No:  the  contumacy  of  transgressors  requires  even  as 
extreme  instances  as  these  of  endless  punishments,  to 
deter  them  from  sin.  The  fatal  answer  is  :  Even  these 
do  not  deter  men  ;  the  world  remains  full  of  sin.  But 
almighty  Grace  could,  if  it  chose,  convert  Satan  and  all 
other  stubborn  sinners,  and  thus  really  attain  the  end 
of  prevention.  It  thus  appears,  that  the  utilitarian 
theory  of  punishment  will  not  apply  to  God's  govern- 
ment, which  is  at  once  the  most  righteous  and  benev- 
olent of  all.  The  theory  is,  therefore,  false. 

Dr.  Paley's  type  of  the  Selfish  System  may  be  said 
to  be  equally  perspicuous  and  false.  That  such  a  speci- 
men of  impotency  and  sophism  in  philosophy  should 
come  from  a  mind  capable  of  so  much  justice  and  per- 
spicuity of  reasoning  as  he  has  exhibited  in  the  experi- 


320  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

mental  field  of  Natural  Theology,  is  one  of  the  most 
curious  facts  in  the  history  of  literature.  I  shall  first 
attempt  to  rebut  the  objections  which  he  insinuates 
against  the  originality  of  our  moral  judgments,  and 
then  criticise  his  own  theory. 

He  first  proposes  to  test  the  question  whether  such 
distinctions  are  intuitively  known,  by  supposing  a  case 
of  what  we  call  odious  filial  treachery,  stated  to  a  mind 
wholly  untutored  by  human  associations,  example,  and 
teaching;  and  by  asking  whether  he,  with  us,  would 
immediately  feel  its  vileness.  We  answer,  of  course : 
No.  But  to  show  how  preposterous  the  test  is,  we 
need  not,  with  Dr.  A.  Alexander,  dwell  on  the  com- 
plexity of  the  moral  problem  involved.  The  simple 
solution  is,  that  such  a  mind  would  not  have  the  moral 
sentiment,  because  he  would  not  comprehend  the  moral 
relations  out  of  which  the  violated  obligations  grew, 
nor  the  very  words  used  to  state  them.  In  no  proper 
sense  could  this  untutored  mind  be  said  to  see  the  case. 
Now,  what  a  paltry  trick  is  it  to  argue  that  a  certain 
mind  has  not  a  power  of  comparison,  because  it  cannot 
compare  objects  which  it  does  not  see  at  all ! 

None  of  Paley's  objections  to  our  moral  intuitions 
are  boldly  stated  ;  but  he  intimates  that  our  moral  sen- 
timents may  all  be  accounted  for  by  association  of  ideas, 
and  imitation  of  our  fellows.  Thus:  "  Having  noticed 
that  certain  actions  produced,  or  tended  to  produce, 
good  consequences,  whenever  those  actions  are  spoken 
of,  they  suggest,  by  the  law  of  association,  the  pleasing 
idea  of  the  good  they  are  wont  to  produce.  What  as- 
sociation begins,  imitation  strengthens;  this  habit  of 
connecting  a  feeling  of  pleasure  with  classes  of  acts,  is 
confirmed  by  similar  habits  of  thought  and  feeling 
around  us,  and  we  duh  it  the  sentiment  of  moral  appro- 
bation.'' (This  analysis  is  precisely  in  the  vein  of  Hume.) 
The  solution  is  shown  to  be  worthless  by  this  one  word. 
The  law  of  association  does  not  transmute,  but  only 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         321 

reproduces,  the  mental  states  connected  by  it.  How 
then  can  the  feeling  of  pleasure,  which  begins  from  the 
perceived  tendency  of  a  class  of  acts  to  produce  natu- 
ral good,  be  changed,  by  mere  association,  into  the 
sentiment  of  approbation  which  attends  the  knowledge 
of  moral  good  ?  These  are  widely  distinct  at  first :  as 
has  been  already  shown.  Again:  On  this  scheme,  how 
came  men  ever  to  have  pain  of  conscience  for  sins 
which  are  naturally  pleasurable,  and  are  attended  with 
no  perceptible  natural  mischief  at  the  time  ?  And  how 
could  the  fact  ever  be  explained,  that  we  often  have  the 
sentiment  of  remorse  for  doing  things  which  are  in  com- 
pliance with  general  associations  and  imitations? 

Dr.  Paley  draws  another  class  of  objections  from  the 
facts  that  men  have  no  innate  ideas  of  the  abstract  ele- 
ment of  virtuous  acts  ;  and  that  moralists,  while  assert- 
ing the  instinctive  origin  of  the  moral  sentiments,  have 
never  been  able  to  point  to  any  one  simple,  abstract 
type,  such  as  veracity,  etc.,  into  which  the  idea  of  the 
virtuous  may  be  ultimately  resolved.  To  the  first  ob- 
jection no  further  answer  is  needed  for  those  who  un- 
derstand the  criticism  of  Locke's  system.  We  do  not 
hold  that  man  has  any  "  innate  ideas  "  of  any  first  truths 
whatsoever.  But  we  hold,  nevertheless,  that  man  has 
innate  pozuers  for  seeing  sundry  first  truths,  and  seeing 
them  intuitively,  upon  occasion  of  the  rise  of  the  suit- 
able instances.  The  doctrine  which  Paley  denies  is, 
that  the  power  of  seeing  the  moral  distinction  is,  in 
that  sense,  intuitive.  Of  course,  the  absence  of  innate 
ideas  of  the  moral  distinction,  in  advance  of  suitable 
instances,  no  more  proves  the  moral  intuition  lacking 
than  the  (admitted)  absence  of  innate  ideas  of  mathe- 
matical axioms  proves  us  lacking  in  rational  intuitions. 
Paley's  second  objection  will  be  found,  upon  inspection,, 
a  bald  begging  of  the  question.  The  question  is, 
whether  the  notion  of  Tightness  in  acts  is  an  original  or 
intuiti .  e  cognition  of  the  human  reason.  Now,  if  it  is, 


322  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

it  follows,  of  course,  that  it  cannot  be  referred  to  any 
simpler  or  more  ultimate  type.  The  fact,  that  no  phi- 
losopher has  succeeded  in  analyzing  the  moral  judg- 
ment into  any  simpler  one,  as  veracity,  harmony,  love 
of  being  as  being,  sympathy,  proves  the  very  thing 
which  Paley  disputes;  that  this  moral  judgment  is  it- 
self of  ultimate  simplicity,  and,  therefore,  intuitive. 
Can  the  abstract  idea  of  Truth  be  analyzed  or  reduced 
to  something  simpler?  Can  it  be  defined  in  any  sim- 
pler terms?  Why  not?  Because  the  general  notion 
of  Truth  is  already  simple  and  primary.  Who  dreams 
of  arguing  that  the  human  reason  has  no  original  capac- 
ity of  perceiving  truths  in  propositions,  because  there 
is  no  simpler  and  more  ultimate  type  to  which  the  ab- 
stract notion  of  Truth,  as  common  to  all  propositions, 
may  be  reduced?  This  is  the  very  fact  which  con- 
vinces us  that  the  power  of  seeing  truth  in  propositions 
is  one  of  the  intuitive  functions  of,  the  reason.  So,  the 
very  assertion  which  Paley  makes  of  our  moral  judg- 
ments is  the  best  proof  that  they  also  are  original  and 
intuitive  acts  of  the  soul.  The  absurdity  of  this  point, 
in  his  hand,  is  also  further  illustrated  by  the  fact,  that 
he  himself  virtually  attempts  to  make  the  very  reduc- 
tion which  he  pronounces  impossible.  As  we  shall  see, 
he  attempts  to  resolve  the  moral  notion  in  all  virtuous 
acts  into  future  utility  ! 

Paley  also  insinuates  the  common  objections  against 
the  originality  of  our  moral  judgments,  from  the  wide 
variety,  and  even  contrariety  of  moral  opinions  in  dif- 
ferent ages  and  nations.  In  one  country,  filial  virtue  is 
supposed  to  consist  in  nursing  an  aged  parent ;  in  an- 
other, in  murdering  and  eating  him.  On  one  side  of 
the  Rhine  or  the  Danube  we  have  seen  the  burning  of 
a  Protestant  heretic  regarded  as  the  first  of  merits ; 
and  on  the  other,  the  first  of  crimes.  It  is  insolently 
charged,  that  it  is  absurd  and  preposterous  to  regard 
.those  sentiments  as  original  and  intuitive  in  mankind 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         323 

which  thus  change  with  a  boundary  line,  or  a  parallel 
of  latitude.  The  answers  to  this  confident  cavil  are, 
that  no  one  ever  pretended  any  human  faculty  was  per- 
fect in  its  actings,  however  original.  While  it  is  ab- 
surd to  refer  to  habit,  example,  and  imitation,  or  asso- 
ciation, as  generating  any  faculty,  they  doubtless  have 
great  influence  in  modifying,  and  especially  in  pervert- 
ing, its  actings.  Next — as  is  justly  remarked  by  Dr. 
Alexander :  many  of  the  supposed  cases  of  contrariety 
of  moral  judgments  are  fully  explained  by  the  fact,  that 
the  dictate  of  conscience,  right  in  general,  is  perverted 
by  some  error  or  ignorance  of  the  understanding.  The 
bigoted  Papist  felt  conscientiously  impelled  to  burn  the 
Lutheran?  True.  And  this  erroneous  judgment  was 
an  ignorant  and  perverted  application  of  a  great  moral 
truth  :  that  men  are  responsible  to  God  for  their  er- 
roneous opinions.  For  if  the  Pope  be  "  God  upon 
earth,"  and  Lutheranism  be  mischievous  error,  then  the 
Lutheran  will  be  justly  responsible  to  the  Pope.  The 
Christian  mother's  highest  duty  is  to  cherish  the  life  of 
her  female  infant;  the  Hindoo  mother  is  impelled  to 
drown  hers  in  the  holy  Ganges.  Yet  both  act  on  the 
correct  dictate  of  conscience,  that  a  mother  should  seek 
the  highest  good  of  her  daughter  at  the  expense  of 
her  own  inclinations.  The  Hindoo  has  been  taught  by 
her  false  creed  to  believe  that  she  does  this  to  her 
daughter,  by  transferring  it  in  infancy  to  heaven.  Once 
more :  it  is  a  most  erroneous  conclusion  to  infer,  that 
because  men  perform,  in  some  countries,  what  we  deem 
odious  acts,  with  seeming  indifference  and  publicity, 
therefore  their  moral  judgments  about  them  do  not 
agree  with  ours.  An  educated  Bengalee  lies  for  a  shil- 
ling, and  when  detected,  professes  to  laugh  at  it  as 
smart.  A  Hottentot  woman  will  seem  shameless  in 
unchastity.  Yet  Lord  Macaulay  assures  us,  that  the 
truthfulness  of  the  Christianized  Briton  produces  the 
same  moral  reverence  in  the  Hindoo  as  in  Europeans. 


324  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Livingstone  tells  us  that  the  poor  Hottentot  has  the 
same  perception  as  civilized  women,  of  the  inconsist- 
ency of  lewdness  in  the  white  Christian.  The  whole 
amount  of  the  case  is,  that  conscience  may  be  greatly 
stupefied  by  evil  influences;  but  her  general  dictates, 
when  heard,  involve  the  same  moral  principles.  No 
heathen,  no  Papist  differs  from  the  Christian  in  the 
speculative  judgments,  that  the  right  ought  to  be  done 
and  the  wrong  eschewed,  and  that  he  who  neglects  to 
do  these  is  ill-deserving  and  worthy  of  punishment. 
When  the  intuition  comes  to  be  applied  to  particular 
questions  of  right  and  wrong  acts,  then  erroneous 
creeds  and  opinions  vary  the  practical  conclusions  of 
different  men. 

But  Paley,  having  succeeded  to  his  own  satisfaction 
in  undermining  our  belief  in  the  existence  of  original 
moral  intuitions,  gives  us  his  own  definition  of  virtue. 
It  is  "  doing  good  to  mankind,  according  to  the  will  of 
God,  for  the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness."  Moral 
obligation  he  defines  as  the  forcible  motive  arising  out 
of  the  command  of  a  superior.  The  good-doing  which 
is  the  matter  of  virtuous  acts  is,  of  course,  conferring 
natural  good.  The  rule  is,  God's  revealed  will ;  the 
motive  is,  the  selfish  one  of  winning  everlasting  happi- 
ness. That  this  scheme  should  ever  have  seemed  plau- 
sible to  Christian  divines,  can  only  be  accounted  for  by 
the  fact  that  we  intuitively  feel,  when  a  God  is  once 
apprehended,  that  His  will  is  a  perfect  rule  of  right, 
and  that  it  is  moral  to  do  precisely  what  He  commands. 
This  is  the  element  of  truth  in  Paley's  definition.  But 
when  we  raise  the  question,  Why  is  all  God's  will  obli- 
gatory? the  only  answer  is  :  Because  all  His  will,  like 
His  character,  is  holy.  To  do  His  will,  then,  is  not  ob- 
ligatory merely  because  God  has  commanded  it;  but 
He  has  commanded  it  because  it  is  obligatory.  The 
distinction  of  right  and  wrong  is  intrinsic.  My  asser- 
tion of  the  affirmative  in  this  vexed  question  receives  a 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         325 

very  conclusive  demonstration,  as  follows :  If  every- 
thing that  God  commanded  is  morally  .right  because 
He  commands  it,  then  His  act  in  commanding  must  be 
morally  right.  But  the  moral  quality  of  God's  act, 
like  that  of  any  other  moral  agent,  proceeds  out  of  the 
subjective  motive  which  prompts  the  act.  The  act  is 
right,  not  by  reason  of  its  mere  form,  but  of  the  ra- 
tional principle  regulating  it.  Then  the  moral  right- 
ness  of  God's  act  in  commanding  must  be  traced  up  to 
the  Tightness  of  the  prior  principle  or  attribute  prompt- 
ing and  regulating  the  utterance  of  such  command. 
We  are  thus  led,  in  spite  of  objection,  to  the  truth  that 
the  morality  of  the  act  commanded  is  ct  priori  to  the 
obligation  on  us :  that  the  act  is  not  right  merely  be- 
cause it  is  commanded  by  God,  but  was  commanded  by 
Him  because  it  is  right. 

Paley's  theory  is  but  a  modification  of  the  selfish  sys- 
tem, and  is,  therefore,  obnoxious  to  the  same  objections, 
He  himself  raises  the  unavoidable  question,  wherein 
virtue,  on  his  definition,  differs  from  a  prudent  self-love 
in  temporal  things.  His  answer  is,  that  the  latter  has 
regard  only  to  this  life  ;  the  former  considers  also  fu- 
ture immortal  well-being.  Dr.  Thomas  Brown  well 
observes  of  this,  that  it  is  but  a  more  odious  refinement 
upon  the  ordinary  selfish  system,  defiling  man's  very 
piety,  by  making  it  a  selfish  trafificing  for  personal  ad- 
vantage with  God,  and  fostering  a  more  gigantic  moral 
egotism  ;  by  so  much  as  immortality  is  longer  than  mor- 
tal life.  This  scheme  of  Paley  is  equally  false  to  our 
consciousness,  which  tells  us  that  when  we  act,  in  all 
relative  duties,  with  least  reference  to  self,  then  we  are 
most  praiseworthy. 

We  may  add,  more  especially,  that  on  Paley's  scheme 
of  obligation,  it  will  be  hard  to  deny  that  there  may  be 
as  real  obligation,  in  some  cases,  to  do  wrong,  as  to  do 
right.  A  company  of  violent  men  overpower  me,  and 
command  me,  on  pain  of  instant  death,  to  burn  down 


326  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

^ 

my  neighbor's  dwelling.  Here  is  "a  forcible  motive 
arising  from  the  command  of  another."  Why  does  it 
not  constitute  a  moral  obligation  to  the  crime  ?  Paley's 
only  reply  would  be,  that  God  commands  me  not  to 
burn  it,  on  pain  of  eternal  death  ;  and  this  obligation 
supersedes  the  other,  because,  God  is  so  superior  to 
man,  and  the  motive  is  so  much  more  forcible.  It 
seems,  then,  that  it  is  God's  might  only  which  makes 
His  right !  Or  else  a  superiority  in  holiness  must  be 
granted,  and  this  concedes  the  existence  of  an  intrinsic 
moral  distinction,  other  than  forcible  constraint. 

On  Paley's  scheme,  there  could  be  no  morality  nor 
moral  obligation,  where  there  was  no  revelation  from 
God  ;  because  neither  the  rule  of  virtue  (His  revealed 
will),  nor  obligation  (His  forcible  command),  nor  motive 
(hope  of  His  favor  through  our  immortality,  from  a 
given  conduct),  would  have  any  existence.  That  is  to 
say,  there  would  be  no  virtue  for  Pagans.  Here,  again, 
Paley's  only  possible  evasion  is  to  say,  that  while  the 
rule  and  command  do  not  exist  in  the  form  of  a  revealed 
theology,  the  Pagans  have  them  in  the  teachings  of 
natural  religion.  He  would  remind  us  how  the  Apos- 
tle says  :  "  The  heathen  which  have  not  the  law  are  a 
law  unto  themselves."  But  I  reply :  If  there  are  no 
authoritative  intuitions  given  by  God  to  man's  soul, 
then  natural  theology  has  no  basis.  And  especially,  if 
the  soul  of  man  contains  no  trace  of  the  image  of  God 
in  the  intuitive  distinctions  of  conscience,  then  we  hare 
no  sufficient  argument  from  natural  reason  to  show 
that  God  is  a  moral  being,  and  that  He  wills  us  to 
perform  moral  acts.  A  review  of  the  reasonings  of 
natural  theology  will  evince  this.  The  evasion,  then, 
fails,  and  the  fatal  objection  stands,  that,  upon  Paley's 
scheme,  there  would  be  no  virtue  whatever  for  any 
heathen,  however  intelligent. 

The  final  and  crowning  refutation  appears,  when  we 
attempt  to  apply  this  theory  to  God.  His  virtue, 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         327 

surely,  is  the  most  complete  and  exact  of  all.  It  is 
equally  sure  that  His  virtue  ought  to  be  the  lofty 
model  of  ours.  But  in  what  can  the  virtue  of  God  con- 
sist, according  to  Paley's  definition  ?  There  is  no  rule  ; 
for  there  is  no  Creator  and  sovereign  over  God,  to 
point  out  to  Him  what  it  behooves  Him  to  do.  There 
is  no  moral  obligation ;  for  there  is  no  other  whose 
command  can  apply  a  forcible  motive  to  absolute  Om- 
nipotence. There  is  no  motive;  for  His  everlasting 
happiness  is  eternally,  immutably,  and  necessarily  per- 
fect. The  only  possible  escape  from  these  monstrous 
conclusions  is  to  say,  that  the  rule,  obligation,  and  mo- 
tive exist,  for  God,  in  the  moral  perfections  of  His  own 
eternal  and  unchangeable  nature.  This  is  true ;  a 
glorious  truth  ;  the  foundation-stone  of  all  the  virtue 
and  happiness  in  the  Universe.  But  to  say  this,  is  to 
repudiate  the  central  principles  of  the  Sensualistic 
ethics,  and  to  teach  the  eternity  of  the  intrinsic  moVal 
distinction,  in  its  most  decisive  form.  Could  any  ex- 
posure be  more  complete  than  this,  which  shows  us 
Paley  stripping  God,  the  infinitely  perfect  fountain  and 
exemplar  of  all  virtue,  of  the  very  possibility  of  virtue? 

Dr.  Adam  Smith,  the  celebrated  author  of  the 
"  Wealth  of  Nations,"  attempted,  in  his  Theory  of  the 
Moral  Sentiments,  to  explain  them  as  modifications  of 
the  emotion  of  sympathy.  He  proceeds/after  illustrat- 
ing, in  an  ingenious  and  instructive  way,  the  nature  of 
this  powerful  emotion,  after  substantially  this  fashion  ^ 
When  we  contemplate  the  action  of  a  fellow-man,  we 
unavoidably  conceive  to  ourselves  the  nature  of  the 
affections  which,  as  we  suppose,  moved  him  to  the  act. 
If  we  feel  ourselves  in  a  state  of  instinctive  sympathy 
with  his  affections  as  expressed  in  the  act,  we  experi- 
ence a  pleasure  in  this  sympathetic  harmony;  and  it  is 
this  pleasurable  feeling  which  has  received  the  name 
of  moral  approbation.  Disapprobation,  and  the  hotter 


328  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

sentiment  of  indignation  at  wrong,  are  accounted  for 
in  a  similar  way,  as  results  of  a  lack  of  sympathy  with 
the  agent's  affections.  Our  sentiments  of  good  con- 
science and  remorse  towards  our  own  actions,  he  sup- 
poses to  be  produced  thus.  When  we  act,  we  imagine 
an  ideal  man  looking  on  as  spectator  of  our  action  » 
and  as  we  conceive  him  in  a  state  of  sympathetic  har- 
mony with  our  motive,  or  out  of  it,  we  are,  by  the  same 
power  of  sympathy,  affected  with  self-approbation  or 
remorse. 

The  fundamental  defect  of  this  analysis  is,  that  Smith 
is  compelled  tacitly  to  take  for  granted  the  existence 
of  the  moral  sentiment,  in  order  to  account  for  it.  Sym- 
pathy only  reproduces  a  fainter  shade  of  the  same  emo- 
tion which  we  are  beholding.  It  is  the  secondary  rain- 
bow in  the  soul,  reflecting  the  same  tints  which  appear 
in  the  primary.  Hence,  unless  the  producing  senti- 
ment in  the  agent  were  moral,  it  could  not  produce  by 
sympathy  a  moral  sentiment.  This  may  be  tested  by  a 
very  simple  instance.  Two  malignant  minds  may  be 
in  full  harmony  in  their  thirst  for  revenge ;  so  that 
when  the  one  uses  his  opportunity  to  wreak  his  malice 
upon  his  enemy,  the  other  may  be  vividly  affected  by 
sympathetic  imagination  of  the  expected  time  when  he 
shall  do  the  same  to  his  enemy.  But  this  is  not  moral 
approbation :  the  conscience  of  each  may  be  uttering 
its  protest  against  the  crime  at  the  moment,  and  a  sim- 
ilar remorse  may  pursue  both  the  agents  afterward. 
Again:  the  sentiments  of  conscience  are  supposed  to 
arise  by  means  of  an  ideal  spectator.  But  by  what  law 
does  our  mind  determine  the  nature  of  the  sentiment 
in  this  ideal  man  inspecting  our  action  ?  His  sentiment 
is  but  the  projection  of  our  own  moral  sentiment.  Dr. 
Smith  has  taken  the  effect  for  the  cause.  Thus,  in  each 
step,  he  has  to  assume  the  affection  as  already  produced, 
for  the  production  of  which  he  would  account.  Last: 
the  sympathetic  affection  is  always  fainter  than  the  one 


Refutation  of  Scnsualistic  Ethics.         329 

which  awakens  it.  But  our  moral  sentiments  toward 
our  own  actions  and  deserts  are  far  the  most  vivid.  Re- 
morse is  more  pungent  than  disapprobation  for  another  : 
self-approbation  is  sweeter  than  our  pleasure  in  others' 
virtues.  But  according  to  Dr.  Smith's  analysis,  the 
sentiments  of  conscience,  being  reflected  once  and 
again  before  they  take  this  form,  should  be  found  far 
the  faintest  of  all  our  moral  sentiments. 

The  ethical  lectures  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  of  Edin- 
burgh, are  marked  by  great  acuteness,  and  nobility  of 
general  tone ;  and  he  has  rendered  gallant  service  in 
refuting  the  more  degrading  theory.  He  makes  moral 
distinctions  original  and  authoritative,  and  yet  allows 
the  reason  only  a  secondary  function  in  them.  The 
whole  result  of  his  analysis  is  this  :  When  certain  ac- 
tions are  presented,  there  arises  immediately  an  in- 
stinctive and  peculiar  emotion  called,  for  want  of  a 
more  vivid  term,  moral  approbation.  It  comes  with- 
out any  previous  condition  of  self-calculation,  judg- 
ment of  relation,  or  rational  perception.  This  imme- 
diate emotion  constitutes  our  whole  feeling  of  the 
rightness,  obligation,  and  merit  of  the  agent.  As  mem- 
ory recollects  from  experience  the  successive  acts 
which  affect  us  with  the  moral  emotion,  reason  general- 
izes them  into  a  class,  and  thus  derivatively  forms  the 
general  idea  of  virtue.  Man's  moral  faculty  is,  then, 
according  to  Dr.  Brown,  not  rational,  but  emotional ; 
not  a  proper  faculty,  but  a  sensibility.  His  system  de- 
serves, even  more  than  Dr.  Adam  Smith's,  which  he 
refutes,  to  be  called  "  a  sentimental  system'." 

But  it  does  not  seem  to  me  a  valid  objection  to  it  to 
say,  with  Jouffroy,  that  Dr.  Brown  makes  the  moral 
emotion  only  a  coordinate  one  among  the  ranks  of  our 
instinctive  affections;  and  so  there  is  no  longer  any 
more  reason  why  the  moral  sentiment  should  claim  to 
be  dominant  over  them,  than  they  over  it.  For  Dr. 


330  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Brown  might  reply,  that  the  very  nature  of  this  moral 
sentiment  is,  that  it  claims  all  the  other  sensibilities  which 
can  have  any  moral  results  as  subject  to  its  imperative, 
and  thus  within  its  domain.  A  more  valid  argument 
might  be  drawn  from  this  peculiar,  imperative  feature 
of  our  moral  sentiments.  This  feature  certainly  makes 
it  the  regulative  faculty  of  the  human  soul.  If  our 
moral  sentiments  are  rooted  in  an  instinctive  sensibil- 
ity, and  not  in  a  judgment  of  the  reason,  then  man  is 
not  practically  a  rational  being.  Reason  does  not  rule 
him  when  he  acts  rightly  even. 

But,  second,  Dr.  Brown's  scheme  does  not  square 
with  the  analogies  of  the  soul.  In  every  case,  our  ra- 
tional emotions  arise  out  of  our  intellections.  This  is 
true,  in  a  lower  sense,  even  of  our  animal  instincts :  it 
is  perception  which  awakens  appetites.  It  is  the  con- 
ception of  the  intent  to  injure  which  gives  the  signal  to 
our  resentment.  And  in  all  the  more  intellectual  emo- 
tions, as  of  taste,  love,  moral  complacency,  the  view  of 
the  understanding,  and  that  alone,  evokes  the  emotion 
in  a  normal  way.  The  soul  feels  because  it  has  seen, 
and  as  it  has  seen.  How  else  could  reason  rule  our 
emotions?  Surely  this  is  one  of  our  prime  distinctions 
from  brutes,  that  our  emotions  are  not  mere  instincts, 
but  rational  emotions.  We  may  note  especially,  too, 
that  if  our  moral  sentiments  did  not  have  an  element 
of  rational  judgment  at  their  root,  it  would  be  inex- 
plicable that  they  do  not,  like  all  our  other  instinctive 
affections,  sometimes  come  into  collision  with  our  own 
reason.  Again  :  Dr.  Brown  has  very  properly  shown, 
in  opposing  the  selfish  system,  that  our  instincts,  be- 
cause instinctive,  cannot  originate  in  calculated  self- 
interest.  He  seems  to  think  that  in  making  the  moral 
emotion  an  instinctive  sensibility,  he  has  done  all  that 
is  needed  to  make  it  morally  disinterested.  But  be- 
cause an  act  is  not  selfishly  calculated,  it  is  not  there- 
fore disinterested.  Then  would  our  animal  appetites, 


Refutation  of  Sens^lalistic  Ethics.          331 

even  in  infancy,  be  moral  virtues !  The  truth  is,  as 
Jouffroy  has  taught  us  to  distinguish  :  in  instinctive 
volitions,  the  motive  is  personal  to  the  agent,  but  not 
consciously  so.  In  selfish  volitions,  the  motive  is  per- 
sonal to  the  agent,  and  consciously  so.  Only  when  the 
motive  is  impersonal  to  the  agent,  and  he  knows  it,  and 
yet  acts,  is  there  disinterested  virtue. 

Lastly :  If  Dr.  Brown's  theory  were  correct,  moral 
good  would  only  be  relative  to  each  man's  sensibility, 
and  there  would  be  no  uniform  standard.  An  act 
might  be  good  to  one  and  bad  to  another,  as  it  present- 
ed itself  to  his  sensibility  ;  just  as  one  .man  calls  a  viand 
good,  and  another,  bad.  But  the  truth  is,  that  moral 
distinctions  are  as  intrinsic  in  certain  acts,  as  truth  is 
in  certain  propositions;  both  are  eternal  and  immuta- 
ble. Even  God  sees  and  calls  the  right  right  because 
it  is  so.  Dr.  Brown  foresees  this,  and  in  endeavoring 
to  rebut  it,  is  guilty  of  a  mischievous  absurdity.  Why, 
he  asks,  does  it  give  any  more  intrinsic  basis  for  moral 
distinctions  in  acts  themselves,  to  suppose  that  our  cog- 
nizance of  them  is  by  a  rational  judgment,  than  to  say, 
with  him,  that  it  is  in  the  way  they  immediately  affect 
a  certain  natural  sensibility  in  us?  What  is  intuition, 
he  asks,  but  a  sort  of  rational  sensibility  to  be  affected 
in  a  given  way  by  propositions?  And  in  either  case 
we  have  no  ground  for  any  belief  in  the  permanence  of 
the  quality  felt  or  perceived,  than  that  our  Maker  has 
made  us  to  be  affected  so !  Thus  he  betrays  the  whole 
basis  of  morals  and  truth  to  a  sweeping  scepticism. 
We  are  compelled  by  our  reason  to  believe,  on  the 
contrary,  that  certain  propositions  affect  us  with  such 
and  such  judgments,  because  truth  or  error  is  intrinsic 
in  them.  Dr.  Brown  goes  to  the  fatal  extreme  of  say- 
ing that  the  permanent  relations  ascertained  by  the 
reason  itself  are  not  intrinsic  in  objects,  and  exist  no- 
where except  in  the  perceiving  reason.  Says  he  :  Were 
there  nowhere  a  perceiving  mind  cognizing  the  rela- 


332  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

tion  of  the  square  of  the  hypothenuse  to  the  squares 
of  the  two  shorter  sides,  the  relation  would  be  abso- 
lutely non-existent,  though  the  universe  might  be  full 
of  right-angled  triangles.  Is  not  this  sheer  scepticism  ? 
Is  it  not  teaching  that  none  of  the  convictions  of  the 
reason  have  objective  validity?  There  need  be  no 
stronger-  refutation  of  his  theory, than  that  he  should 
acknowledge  himself  driven  by  it  to  such  an  admission. 
The  moral  functions  of  the  soul  have,  indeed,  an  emo- 
tive element ;  but  this  is  the  attendant  and  consequence 
of  a  rational  element. 

Our  moral  judgments,  then,  as  we  have  indicated  fre- 
quently in  the  previous  discussion,  are  evidently  no 
other  than  functions  of  the  reason.  This  is  evinced  by 
the  remarks  just  made  in  refutation  of  Dr.  Brown's 
sentimental  system.  In  this  judgment  of  the  reason  is 
rooted  that  peculiar  emotion,  which  gives  temperature 
to  all  our  moral  sentiments.  Now  it  might  perhaps  be 
said  plausibly,  that  the  reason  is  concerned  only  with 
the  judgment  of  truths  in  propositions  ;  and  we  are  not 
willing  to  accept  that  analysis  of  virtue  by  Dr.  Clarke 
into  fitness,  and  of  Wollaston,  which  reduces  the  moral 
distinction  to  that  of  mere  truth.  But  truth  in  propo- 
sitions is  a  certain  kind  of  relation  between  subject  and 
predicate ;  there  are  other  kinds,  and  the  proper  func- 
tion of  the  reason  is  the  judgment  of  all  relations.  Rea- 
son is  the  comparing  faculty..  I  confirm  the  doctrine 
that  our  moral  judgments,  so  far  as  they  are  merely  in- 
tellective of  the  distinction  between  right  and  wrong, 
are  simply  acts  of  the  reason,  by  these  other  remarks. 
First :  So  far  as  we  know,  those  beings  who  have  rea- 
son, and  those  only,  form  moral  judgments.  The  cause 
that  brutes  have  no  moral  ideas,  is,  that  they  cannot 
reason  on  abstract  truth.  Second  :  If  the  moral  faculty 
and  the  reason  were  two  faculties,  we  might  naturally 
expect  that  the  one  would  sometimes  convict  the  other 
of  inaccuracy,  as  the  memory  does  the  reason,  and  as 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         333 

observation  does  the  memory.  Third:  The  identity  of 
the  two  functions  seems  strongly  indicated  by  the  fact 
that,  if  the  reason  is  misled  by  any  error  of  views,  the 
moral  judgm-ents  are  infallibly  perverted  to  just  the 
same  extent.  The  moral  motive  is  always  a  rational  one. 
The  imperative  of  conscience,  the  judgment  of  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation,  merit  or  demerit,  are  always 
grounded  in  the  truth  of  some  proposition  predicating 
relation  of  agent  and  object.  By  that  truth  essentially 
these  judgments  are  mediated.  I  see  no  necessity, 
therefore,  to  assign  our  moral  acts  to  a  special  and  dis- 
tinct faculty  of  internal  perception,  or  "  moral  sense." 
They  are  functions  of  that  crowning  faculty  which  al- 
lies man  to  his  Mak^r,  the  Reason. 

We  have  now  passed  in  review  all  the  several  the- 
ories which  attempt  to  resolve  the  moral  sentiments  of 
man  into  some  lower  faculty,  and  have  found  them  un- 
tenable. Hence  alone  we  draw  a  sufficient  demonstra- 
tion, that,  they  are  original  and  intuitive.  All  the  chem- 
ists, for  instance,  attempt  to  analyze  a  new  solid  into 
some  known  simple  substance,  and  absolutely  fail.  We, 
therefore,  set  it  down  as  itself  belonging  to  the  list  of 
simple  and  original  substances.  But  this  is  not  the 
whole  of  our  proof.  For  every  original  and  simple 
idea  or  notion  with  which  our  souls  are  furnished,  we 
find  a  distinct,  original  power;  and  without  this,  the 
cognition  could  never  have  been  possessed  by  man. 
Had  man  no  eye,  he  would  never  have  had  the  ideas 
of  light  and  colors;  no  ear,  he  could  never  have  had 
the  idea  of  melody  or  harmony  ;  no  taste,  he  would 
forever  have  lacked  the  idea  of  beauty.  So,  if  the  no- 
tion of  rightness  in  actions  is  not  identical  with  that  of 
selfish  advantage,  nor  common  utility,  nor  benevolence, 
nor  love  of  applause,  nor  taste,  nor  sympathetic  har- 
mony, nor  any  other  original  sentiment,  it  must  be 
gained  directly  by  some  other  original  power  of  the 
soul.  To  this,  in  the  second  place,  consciousness  testi- 


334  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

fies:  the  man  who  fully  and  calmly  investigates  his  own 
mental  states  and  acts  will  be  convinced  that  his  view 
and  feeling  of  the  Tightness  ol  some  acts  arise  imme- 
diately in  his  mind,  without  any  other  medium  than  in- 
tellection of  the  relations  of  agent  to  object;  that  when 
the  attention  is  awake,  their  rise  is  unavoidable;  and 
that  their  failure  to  arise  would  be  necessarily  appre- 
hended as  a  vice  in  the  soul's  actings.  There  is,  indeed, 
great  diversity  in  the  estimation  of  the  more  complex 
details  of  moral  questions.  And  men's  understanding 
of  these  distinctions  is  often  disturbed  by  three  causes, 
well  stated  by  Dr.  Brown :  complexity  of  elements, 
habits  of  association  of  ideas,  and  prevalent  passion. 
But  allowing  for  these,  there  is  just  that  immediate  and 
universal  agreement  in  all  sane  human  minds  which  we 
expect  to  find  in  the  acceptance  of  necessary  first 
truths.  In  the  simple  and  fundamental  ideas  of  morals, 
all  men  are  agreed.  Savages  of  all  continents,  for  in- 
stance, think  as  we  Christians  do,  on  the  simple  ques- 
tions, whether  gratitude  be  criminal,  whether  virtuous 
acts  deserve  penalty,  whether  beneficence  is  meritori- 
ous. In  the  case  of  any  other  intuitions,  we  have  to 
make  precisely  the  same  allowances,  and  to  expect  the 
same  disturbing  causes,  as  in  the  moral. 

These  important  truths  may  be  happily  illustrated 
from  our  logical  judgments.  In  some  propositions  [not 
in  all:  some  are  truisms,  many  are  meaningless,  and 
many  are  so  unknown  as  to  be  neither  affirmed  nor  de- 
nied] there  is  the  element  of  truth  or  falsehood,  simple, 
original,  incapable  of  analysis  into,  or  definition  by, 
simpler  terms,  and  immediately  cognized  by  the  mind's 
intellection :  So,  there  is  in  some  actions  (of  the  class 
known  as  "  moral  ")  an  intrinsic  quality  of  rightness  or 
wrongness,  equally  simple,  original,  and  incapable  of 
analysis,  seen  immediately,  like  primitive  truth,  by  the 
inspection  of  the  reason.  This  quality  in  these  acts  is 
intrinsic.  We  see  it  not  merely  because  our  souls  hap- 


Refutation  of  Sensualistic  Ethics.         335 

pen  to  be  so  fashioned  as  to  see  it ;  but  a  truthful  and 
perfect  Creator  has  so  fashioned  our  powers  as  to  see 
it,  because  it  is  intrinsically  there,  in  the  right  acts. 
But  it  is  not  asserted  that  all  moral  distinctions  in  par- 
ticular acts  are  immediately  or  necessarily  seen.  As  in 
propositions,  some  have  primary,  and  some  deductive 
truth,  some  seen  to  be  true  without  premises,  and  some 
by  the  help  of  premises ;  so  in  acts  having  moral  qual- 
ity, the  Tightness  or  wrongness  of  some  is  seen  imme- 
diately, and  of  some  deductively.  In  the  latter,  the 
moral  relation  of  the  agent  is  not  immediately  compre- 
hended, but  the  moral  judgment  needs  to  be  mediated 
only  by  the  knowledge  of  some  other  truths.  If  these 
truths  are  not  known,  then  the  moral  quality  of  the  ac- 
tion is  not  obvious.  This  simple  view  shows  us  why, 
if  the  mind's  opinions  touching  those  truths  which  are 
the  premises  of  moral  judgments  are  erroneous,  the 
moral  judgment  also  errs.  Just  as  in  logic,  so  here : 
false  premises  used  according  to  the  correct  forms  of 
deduction,  must  lead  to  false  conclusions.  And  here  is 
the  explanation  of  the  discrepancies  in  moral  judg- 
ments which  have  so  confused  practical  ethics,  and 
have  given  the  pretext  to  the  Sensualistic  philosopher. 
The  promise  of  my  fourth  chapter  has  now  been  ful- 
filled. Let  this  part  of  the  discussion  be  closed  with 
two  inferences.  The  corner-stone  of  the  Sensualistic 
philosophy  is  upturned  by  the  establishment  of  the 
doctrine,  that  man's  soul  does  possess  primitive  rational 
judgments  of  right  and  wrong.  For  here  is  one  in- 
stance, one  whole  class  of  mental  functions,  existing  in 
the  teeth  of  the  fundamental  assertion  of  the  Sensual- 
ist, that  sense  furnishes  all  our  mental  stores;  and  the 
instance  is  of  transcendent  importance.  The  Sensual- 
ist, losing  his  battle  at  this  point,  has  lost  it  totally  ;  for 
the  moral  functions  of  the  soul  are  regulative  of  all  the 
others.  Second :  The  decision  of  this  question  is  vir- 
tually decisive  against  all  the  worse  consequences  of 


336  Sensiialistic  Philosophy. 

the  Sensualistic  scheme — evolutionism,  .  materialism, 
and  atheism.  Let  any  man  apprehend  the  solemn  and 
unique  fact  of  his  own  rational,  responsible  spontaneity, 
as  it  has  been  established  in  this  chapter;  let  him  look 
it  in  the  face  until  he  perceives  its  true  significance, 
and  he  will  relinquish  these  errors  as  self-evident  ab- 
surdities. No  matter,  no  organism  of  molecules,  no 
mere  organ  of  animal  sensibility,  can  be  the  seat  of  this 
glorious  and  awful  faculty.  It  stands  above  and  apart 
from  all  these  lower  forms  of  being.  That  substance 
which  is  qualified  by  this  power  must  be  as  unique  as 
its  peculiar  endowment.  And  to  assert  its  evolution 
by  the  operation  of  unintelligent  law,  out  of  lower 
forms  of  animal  or  inanimate  matter,  is  as  wild  as  to 
assert  the  rise  of  a  universe  out  of  nothing  without  a 
First  Cause.  Soul  and  God  are  revealed  together  in 
this  otherwise  inexplicable  fact  of  responsible,  intelli- 
gent free-agency. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PHILOSOPHY  AND   THE   SUPERNATURAL. 

TF  man  has  a  soul,  a  God,  and  a  hereafter,  and  is  a 
-*-  fallen  being,  then,  indisputably,  every  good  man 
must  deem  the  bearings  of  any  code  of  speculative 
opinions  upon  the  doctrine  of  Christian  Redemption  as 
unspeakably  its  most  important  aspect.  For  it  is  im- 
possible for  any  professed  human itarianism  to  advance 
any  praiseworthy  purpose  or  motive  whatsoever,  as- 
suming to  tend  to  the  well-being  or  elevation  of  our 
race,  but  that  I  will  show,  if  man  is  to  have  any  future, 
that  motive  is  bound  to  urge  the  well-wisher  to  seek  his 
fellow-creatures'  future  good,  as  much  more  earnestly, 
as  immortality  is  longer  than  mortal  life.  But  has  the 
Sensualistic  philosophy  any  proposal  to  offer  for  re- 
deeming men  from  a  disordered  and  mortal  estate,  as 
plausible  or  promising  as  Christianity  ?  Unless  it  has, 
a  mere  decent  regard  for  humanity  should  prevent  all 
disrespect  to  this  doctrine,  from  which,  it  is  manifest, 
the  larger  part  of  all  the  virtue,  hope,  and  happiness  in 
a  miserable  world  now  spring.  I  freely  declare,  there- 
fore, not  as  a  clergyman,  but  as  a  human  being  not  sim- 
ply malignant  toward  my  suffering  race,  that  my  main 
impeachment  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  and  es- 
pecially of  the  Positivist  and  Evolution  doctrines,  in 
which  it  now  chiefly  appears,  is  grounded  upon  their 
anti-Christian  tendencies.  I  have  pointed  to  that  gulf 
of  the  blackness  of  darkness,  and  of  freezing  despair, 
toward  which  they  thrust  the  human  soul  ;  a  gulf  with- 

22  (£07,) 


338  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

out  an  immortality,  without  a  God,  without  a  faith, 
without  a  Providence,  without  a  hope.  Were  it  not 
both  impossible  and  immoral  for  a  good  man  to  con- 
sider such  a  thing  dispassionately,  it  would  appear  to 
him  odd  and  ludicrous  to  witness  the  pretended  sur- 
prise and  anger  of  the  assailants  at  perceiving, that  rea- 
sonable Christian  people  are  not  disposed  to  submit 
with  indifference  to  all  this  havoc.  There  is  a  great 
affectation  of  philosophic  calmness  and  impartiality. 
They  are  quite  scandalized  to  find  that  Christians  can- 
not be  as  cool  as  themselves,  while  all  our  infinite  and 
priceless  hopes  for  both  worlds  are  dissected  away 
under  their  philosophic  scalpel.  Such  bigotry  is  very 
naughty  in  their  eyes!  This  conduct  sets  Christianity 
in  a  very  sorry  light  beside  the  fearless  and  placid  love 
of  truth  displayed  by  the  apostles  of  science  !  Such  is 
the  absurd  and  insolent  tone  affected  by  them.  J.  S. 
Mill  coolly  argues,  that,  of  course,  \\\e  clergy  are  wholly 
unfitted  for  any  pursuit  of  philosophy,  because  they  are 
bound  beforehand  by  their  subscription  to  creeds, 
which  have  taken  away  their  liberty  of  thought  in  ad- 
vance ;  and  it  is  quietly  intimated  that  mercenary  re- 
gard for  salaries  and  dignities  dependent  on  that  sub- 
scription, will  prevent  their  accepting  or  professing  the 
Sensualistic  gospel.  To  this  arrogance  and  injustice  I, 
for  one,  give  place  by  subjection,  not  for  a  moment.  It 
is  a  composition  of  hypocrisy  and  folly.  For  we  ob- 
serve that  whenever  these  philosophic  hearts  are  not 
encased  in  a  triple  shield  of  supercilious  arrogance, 
they  also  burn  with  a  scientific  bigotry,  worthy  of  a 
Dominic  or  a  Philip  II.  of  Spain.  They  also  can  vitu- 
perate and  scold,  and  actually  excel  the  bad  manners 
of  the  theologians !  The  scientific  bigots  are  fiercer 
than  the  theological,  besides  being  the  aggressors  !  If 
we  were  about  to  enter  upon  an  Arctic  winter  in  Lab- 
rador, with  a  dependent  and  cherished  family  to  pro- 
tect from  that  savage  clime,  and  if  "  a  philosopher  " 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         339 

should  insist,  in  the  "  pure  love  of  science/'  upon  extin- 
guishing by  his  experiments  all  the  lamps  which  were 
to  give  us  light,  warmth,  and  food,  and  to  save  us  from 
a  frightful  death ;  and  if  he  should  call  us  test}r  block- 
heads because  we  did  not  witness  these  experiments 
with  equanimity,  I  surmise  that  nothing  but  compas- 
sion for  his  manifest  lunacy  would  prevent  sensible  peo- 
ple from  breaking  his  head  before  his  enormous  folly 
was  completed.  When  a  wilful,  absurd  person  chooses 
to  dignify  his  novel  (or  stale)  vagaries,  which  contra- 
dict not  only  my  most  serious  and  honest  judgment, 
but  that  of  the  best  and  wisest  of  human  kind,  with 
the  reverend  names  of  "  Truth  "  and  "  Science,"  I  sub- 
mit that  I  have  at  least  as  much  right  to  reject  them 
as  no  truth  and  no  science,  as  he  has  to  advance  them. 
Let  us  suppose  a  case  perfectly  parallel.  I  had  an  hon- 
ored father,  whose  virtue,  nobleness,  and  benevolence 
were  the  blessing  of  my  life.  That  exalted  character 
and  all  that  beneficence  were  grounded  in  certain  pro- 
fessed principles.  Now,  I  know  that  father;  I  know, 
by  their  fruits,  that  his  principles  were  noble.  But 
here  come  a  parcel  of  men  who  did  not  choose  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  him,  and  so  really  do  not  know 
his  memory,  and  they  indulge  their  vanity,  or  some 
other  caprice,  in  disparaging  his  person  and  principles. 
But  they  expect  me,  his  son  and  beneficiary,  to  "take 
it  all  coolly  !  "  It  is  quite  naughty  to  have  any  heat  to- 
ward gentlemen  who  are  proceeding  so  purely  "  in  the 
interests  of  the  Truth  !  "  Now,  every  right  heart  knows 
that  it  is  not  only  my. right,  but  my  sacred  duty  o  de- 
fend the  sacred  character  of  my  father  and  benefactor 
with  zeal  and  righteous  emotion.  If  I  were  capable 
of  really  feeling  the  nonchalance  which  his  gratuitous 
assailants  profess,  I  should  be  a  scoundrel.  There  is 
no  righteous  room  for  neutrality  or  indifference  of  soul 
when  righteousness  is  assaulted.  It  is  impossible  for 
man  to  love  truth  and  right  as  it  is  our  duty  to  love  it 


34O  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

without  having  sensibility  when  they  arc  injured  !  Such 
is  precisely  the  relation  of  the  honest-minded  Christian 
when  his  God  and  Saviour  is  disparaged  !  If  men 
choose  to  exercise  their  right  of  free  discussion  by 
waging  this  warfare  on  our  God  and  His  cause,  they 
need  not  expect  anything  except  the  resistance  of  hon- 
est indignation  ;  it  is  a  piece  of  hypocrisy  as  shabby  as 
shallow  to  pretend  to  a  right  to  outrage  other  people's 
clearest  convictions  without  the  provocation  of  their 
disapproval.  We  shall,  of  course,  give  them  the  full 
privilege  of  doing  this  wrong  untouched  of  civil  pains 
and  penalties  :  this  is  the  liberty  of  thought  which  Prot- 
estantism asserts,  to  its  immortal  honor.  God  forbid 
that  any  sinful  abuse  of  the  truth  should  ever  provoke 
any  Christian  to  infringe  that  liberty  by  persecution. 
And  it  is  plainly  our  duty,  under  the  bitterest  provoca- 
tion of  these  gratuitous  assaults  upon  the  most  precious 
principles,  to  see  to  it  that  we  "  be  angry  and  sin  not ;" 
that  our  indignation  may  not  go  farther  than  the  evil 
desert,  and  our  condemnation  may  contain  none  of  the 
gall  of  personal  spite. 

But  there  is  an  affectation  abroad,  among  the  assail- 
ants of  Christianity,  which  demands  far  more.  It 
claims  the  privilege  of  speculating  as  unchristianly  as 
they  please,  not  only  without  being  molested,  which  we 
freely  concede,  but  without  being  disapproved.  They 
say  that  the  very  emotion  of  disapprobation  is  a  perse- 
cution;  that  this  zeal  is  precisely  the  motive  which,  in 
more  bloody  days,  prompted  churchmen  to  visit  civil 
pains  and  penalties  upon  dissentients  ;  that  this  motive 
will  do  the  same  thing  again,  upon  opportunity,  if  it  be 
allowed  to  exist ;  and  that,  therefore,  we  are  not  true 
friends  of  liberty  of  thought  until  the  very  emotion  is 
banished,  and  all  speculation,  no  matter  what  holy  and 
righteous  thing  it  may  assail,  is  considered  without 
feeling  and  weighed  with  the  absolute  impartiality  and 
initial  indifference  which  they  affect. 


Philosophy  and  tJie  Supernatural.         341 

Upon  this  claim  my  first  remark  is,  that  it  is  violently 
inconsistent.  With  these  men,  this  license  of  thought 
is  a  holy  thing  (possibly  their  only  one.)  And  when 
they  imagine  it  assailed,  or  in  the  least  restrained,  do 
they  entertain  the  question  of  the  restriction  with  that 
dispassionate  calmness  ?  Not  at  all  ;  they  are  full  of  an 
ardent  zeal;  and  they  believe  that  they  "do  well  to  be 
angry."  They  can  argue  the  cause  of  charity  most  un- 
charitably, and  can  be  most  intolerant  in  their  advocacy 
of  toleration.  Why  ?  Because  the  encroachment  is 
unrighteous.  Aha  !  Then  we  have  the  sanction  of  the 
nonchalant  gentlemen  for  the  truth,  that  righteousness 
ought  to  be  not  only  professed,  but  loved ;  that  moral 
truth  and  right  are  the  proper  object,  not  only  of  judg- 
ment, but  of  moral  emotion.  They  have  found  out  that 
it  is  good  to  be  "zealously  affected  "  in  a  good  cause  ! 
This  is  precisely  my  doctrine,  provided  only  one  is  en- 
titled to  be  sure  that  the  cause  is  good.  My  second 
answer  is  :  That  this  species  of  indifferentism  is  unnatu- 
ral and  impossible.  Man's  soul  is  formed  by  its  Maker 
not  only  to  see  moral  truth,  but  to  love  it  upon  seeing 
it.  It  is  an  unnatural  soul,  a  psychological  monstrosity, 
which  does  not.  But  love  for  that  which  is  reasonably 
valued  must  have  its  counterpart  emotion  toward  the 
opposite.  One  might  as  well  demand  to  have  a  material 
mass  with  a  top,  but  no  under-side;  or  a  magnet  with 
a  North  pole  to  it,  but  no  South,  as  a  reasonable  soul 
which  loved  the  right  (as  it  ought)  and  yet  did  not  hate 
the  wrong.  Last :  I  argue,  that  such  a  state  of  soul 
would  be  criminal,  if  it  were  possible.  Such  moral 
neutrality  would  be  intrinsic  vice.  In  order  to  be  capa- 
ble of  it,  man  must  be  recreant  to  the  positive  claims 
of  virtue.  If  I  find  a  man  who  is  really  able  to  hear 
the  question  debated,  whether  Jesus  Christ  was  an  im- 
postor, with  the  same  calmness,  the  same  utter  absence 
of  emotion  with  which  he  would  properly  debate  the 
species  in  botany  to  which  a  certain  weed  should  be  re- 


342  Sensuctlistic  Philosophy. 

fcrred,  I  shall  be  very  loath  to  trust  my  neck  or  my 
purse  with  that  man  in  the  dark.  The  demand  for  this 
actual  indifferentism  as  essential  to  true  liberty  of 
thought  and  philosophic  temper,  is  absurd  ;  it  is  impos- 
sible it  should  exist.  The  speculative  world  needs  to 
be  reminded  again  of  that  doctrine  of  liberty  of  thought 
which  Bible  Protestantism  enounced  -when  she  be- 
stowed that  boon  on  mankind  (for  it  was  nobody's  gift 
but  hers.)  That  men  are  responsible  for  their  opinions, 
but  responsible  not  to  society,  but  to  God  :  that  chanty 
for  evil  and  error  is  a  universal  duty ;  but  the  object 
toward  which  we  are  to  exercise  it  is  the  person  and  not 
the  error  of  "the  misleading  fellow-creature.  Charity 
had  its  incarnation  in  Him,  who  shed  His  tears  and  His 
blood  for  the  persons  of  the  Scribes,  while  He  de- 
nounced their  principles  with  inexorable  severity. 

Obviously,  then,  we  do  not  think  with  J.  S.  Mill,  that 
clergymen  are  necessarily  excluded  from  the  pursuit  of 
philosophy  because  they  are  committed  in  advance 
against  that  temper  of  indifferentism  by  subscription  to 
their  creeds.  For,  first,  it  is  too  late  in  the  day  to  as- 
sume that  the  total  absence  of  fixed  convictions,  even 
on  the  most  fundamental  and  admitted  truths,  is  a  nec- 
essary qualification  for  the  pursuit  of  truth.  This 
would  imply,  after  so  many  generations  of  pursuit,  that 
truth  is  in  fact  a  phantom,  never  to  be  attained  at  all : 
and  what  convict'c  n  could  be  so  adverse  to  the  honest 
pursuit  of  her  as  that?  I  have  not  so  poor  an  opinion 
of  philosophy  as  to  believe  that  the  sole  architecture  of 
it  must  ever  consist  in  the  upturning  and  relaying  of 
the  foundations.  "Je  vous  avoue,  autant  le  doute  en 
beaucoup  de  points  me  parait  sage  et  force",  autant  le 
scepticisme  general  sur  la  raison  et  les  r6alites  qu*  elle 
nous  decouvre,  me  semble,  plus  j'y  reflechis,  arbitraire, 
artificiel,  et  dangereux."  (Cousin  to  Sir  W.  Hamilton.) 
Second  :  It  is  presumable  that  the  clergyman,  when  he 
subscribes  the  creed  of  his  choice,  is  already  an  edu- 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         343 

cated  man,  no  longer  a  boy.  He  has  investigated,  has 
ascertained  the  principles  which  he  adopts,  and  is  en- 
titled to  hold  them  as  settled,  at  least  so  far  as  not  to 
surrender  them  to  a  new  struggle  for  existence,  at  the 
mere  bidding  of  every  impugner.  Third :  The  quiet 
assumption  that  the  clergyman  alone,  among  his  fellow- 
citizens,  is  devoid  of  that  manliness  and  honesty  which 
would  sacrifice  prejudices  and  emoluments  in  order  to 
be  faithful  to  truth  newly  discovered,  is  offensive. 
When  we  consider  its  significance,  and  when  we  re- 
member the  multitude  of  clergymen  who  have,  in  all 
ages,  done  this  very  thing,  with  a  magnanimous  and 
uncalculating  courage;  when  we  recall  the  fact  that 
Christianity  alone  has  furnished  actual  martyrs  to  their 
convictions,  we  perceive  that  this  insulting  intimation 
betrays  a  scientific  bigotry  more  vulgar  and  odious  than 
anything  exhibited  by  ecclesiastical  intolerance.  Every 
latitudinarian  free-thinker  reads  us  his  trite  lesson  upon 
the  Church  persecuting  free  science,  from  the  text  of 
Galileo  and  the  Romish  Inquisition.  Well,  while  thor- 
oughly reprobating  the  act  and  the  body  which  author- 
ized it,  we  can  very  well  afford  to  accept  this  as  a  typi- 
cal instance.  Science  has  some  unjust  treatment  to 
complain  of;  but  Science  did 'not  present  us  with  a 
martyr!  Her  apostle  was  not  inspired  by  her  with 
that  pitch  of  manhood  and  fealty  to  truth  !  He  sub- 
scribed falsehood  in  order  to  save  his  own  life ;  and 
while  this  morsel  of  history  leaves  upon  Rome  the- 
stigma  of  invading  the  inalienable  rights  of  the  human- 
mind,  it  also  leaves  upon  Galileo  the  dishonor  of  be- 
traying them.  It  requires  the  ennobling  power  of  this 
Christianity,  which  Mill  so  contemns,  to  make  men 
speak  out  the  truth  that  is  in  them,  in  the  face  of  death, 
instead  of  whispering  the  truth,  and  speaking  out  the 
lie,  at  the  bidding  of  cowardice.  With  this  representa- 
tive example  set  over  against  the  noble  army  of  Chris- 
tian martyrs,  with  what  justice  can  it  be  said  that 


344  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

Christianity  obstructs  the  search  and  profession  of  the 
truth  ?  In  fact,  it  is  her  liberalizing  and  elevating  spirit 
which  has  animated  the  most  original  and  fruitful  re- 
searches of  modern  science. 

The  most  patent  signature  of  error  upon  the  recent 
godless  philosophy  is  this:  that  it  is  arrayed  against 
the  rudimental  instincts  of  man  as  manifested  in  all 
ages.  That  the  mind  has  innate  principles  of  thought, 
regulative  of  its  own  intelligence;  that  all  necessary 
truth  is  not  inaccessible  to  it ;  that  a  universe  does  imply 
a  Creator,  and  that  Nature  implies  the  supernatural; 
that  man  has  consciously  a  personal  will,  and  that  there 
is  a  personal  will  over  man's  governing  him  from 
above :  these  are  truths  which  all  ages  have  accepted. 
Now,  it  is  always  a  safe  test  of  pretended  conclusions 
to  ask  if  they  contravene  the  necessary  dictates  of  the 
common  sense  of  mankind.  If  they  do,  we  set  them 
down  as  false  philosophy,  whether  we  can  analyze  the 
sophisms  and  expose  them,  as  we  have  done  with  this 
system,  or  not.  When  the  Idealist  deduces  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  man  who  breaks  his  head  against  a  post 
has  no  valid  evidence  of  the  reality  of  the  post,  or  when 
Spinoza  proved  that  good  and  evil  are  in  themselves 
the  same,  the  universal  common  sense  of  mankind  gave 
them  the  lie :  we  might  have  safely  assumed  that  a 
more  correct  statement  of  the  elements  they  discussed 
would  do  the  same.  And  so  it  turned  out.  So,  when 
the  Sensualistic  philosophy  proposes  to  omit  the  super- 
natural, it  is,  fortunately,  attempting  an  impossibility. 
Man  is  a  religious  being.  Men  would  have  learned  this, 
at  least,  as  certainly  as  they  would  have  learned  the  law 
of  gravitation,  had  they  applied  that  experiential  method 
in  which  they  boast,  by  a  fair  induction  from  the  facts 
of  human  nature  and  history.  That  there  is  in  man's 
soul  an  ineradicable  principle  which  demands  the  super- 
natural, is  as  much  a  fact  of  natural  history  as  that  man 
is  a  bimanous  animal.  His  spiritual  instincts  cannot 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         345 

but  assert  themselves  in  races  and  in  individuals;  and 
even  in  professed  materialists,  whenever  the  hour  of 
their  extremity  makes  them  thoroughly  in  earnest.  All 
that  such  philosophy  can  effect  i ;  to  give  sensual  minds 
a  pretext  for  blinding  their  own  understandings  and 
consciences,  and  perhaps  sealing-  their  own  perdition, 
while  it  affords  topic  of  conceit  to  serious  idlers  in 
their  hours  of  vanity.  Rob  man  of  the  supernatural, 
and  he  must  have  it  again  ;  he  must  have  a  religion. 
If  you  take  from  him  God's  miracles,  he  will  turn  to 
man's  miracles.  "  It  is  not  necessary  to  go  far  in  time, 
or  wide  in  space,  to  see  the  supernatural  of  superstition 
raising  itself  in  the  place  of  the  supernatural  of  religion, 
and  credulity  hurrying  to  meet  falsehood  half  way." 
The  later  labors  of  Comte  himself  present  an  example 
of  this,  which  is  a  satire  upon  his  creed  sufficiently  bit- 
ing to  avenge  all  the  insults  Christianity  has  suffered 
from  it.  After  beginning  with  the  doctrine  that  true 
philosophy  necessarily  makes  religion  impossible,  he 
ended  with  constructing  a  rel'gion  with  a  priesthood, 
calendar,-  and  formal  ritual,  with  aggregate  humanity 
as  its  Great  Being.  "  He  changed  the  glory  of  the  in- 
corruptible God  into  an  image  made  like  unto  corrupti- 
ble man." 

Here  also  it  should  be  said,  that  it  is  a  falsification  of 
the  history  of  knowledge  to  'each  that  when  true,  scien- 
tific progress  is  made,  it  causes  men  to  relinquish  the 
supernatural  for  metaphysics,  and  then  this  for  positive, 
physical  science.  It  was  not  so  of  old  ;  it  is  not  so 
now ;  it  never  will  be  so,  either  with  races  or  individu- 
als. The  cleric  Copernicus,  Bacon,  Kepler,  Sir  Isaac 
Newton,  Leibnitz,  Cuvier,  Brewster,  Herschell,  did  not 
become  less  devout  believers  by  reason  of  their  splen- 
did additions  to  the  domain  of  science.  The  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries  in  Europe  were  marked  by  a 
grand  intellectual  activity  in  the  right  direction.  It 
did  not  become  less  Christian  in  its  thought ;  on  the 


346  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

contrary,  the  most  perfect  system  of  religious  belief 
received  an  equal  impulse.  The  Christian  awakening 
in  France,  which  followed  the  tragical  atheism  of  the 
first  revolution,  and  which  Sensualism  is  now  striving 
to  quench  in  the  blood  of  another  Reign  of  Terror,  did 
not  signalize  a  regression  of  the  exact  sciences.  Hu- 
man progress  is  a  chequered  scene,  in  which  many 
causes  commingle,  working  across  and  with  each  other, 
incomplete  and  confused  results.  Sometimes  there  is 
a  partial  recession  of  the  truth.  The  tides  of  thought 
ebb  and  flow,  swelling  from  the  secret  fountains  which 
none  but  Omniscience  can  fully  measure.  But  amid  all 
the  obscurities,  we  clearly  perceive  this  general  result, 
that  the  most  devout  belief  in  supernatural  verities  is, 
in  the  main,  coincident  with  healthy  intellectual  prog- 
ress. 

One  objection,  which  has  been  made  by  us  already, 
against  the  different  forms  of  Sensualism  was,  that  it 
has  no  place  for  the  conscious  fact  of  our  free-agency. 
The  mind  knows  that,  within  certain  limits,  it  has  spon- 
taneity ;  it  does  originate  certain  effects.  No  system, 
then,  is  correct,  which  has  not  a  place  for  the  full  and 
consistent  admission  of  this  ultimate  truth.  But  this 
same  truth  is  enough  to  convince  us  that  Sensualism  is 
mistaken  in, excluding  the  supernatural — as  does  Posi- 
tivism and  Evolutionism  ;  and  in  omitting  a  divine  will 
and  Providence.  Science  with  the  Positivist  is  nothing 
but  the  knowledge  of  sensible  phenomena  and  their  laws. 
Nature  is  the  all;  no  knowledge  can  be  outside  the 
knowledge  of  her  facts  and  laws ;  no  cause  save  her 
forces.  The  supernatural  is  to  us  the  inaccessible. 
Again:  Positivism  argues;  every  branch  of  experiential 
knowledge,  the  more  it  is  explored,  does  the  more  fully 
convince  us  of  the  universal  and  invariable  uniformity 
of  natural  law.  Hence,  the  argument  is  as  when  we 
follow  twro  parallel  lines  and  find  that,  however  for  we 
trace  them,  they  do  not  approximate,  we  conclude  that 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         347 

if  they  could  be  infinitely  extended,  they  would  never 
meet.  So,  we  are  authorized  by  this  widening-  experi- 
ence of  the  invariability  of  natural  laws,  so  far  as  we 
learn  them,  to  conclude,  that  if  our  knowledge  of  all. 
natural  law  were  absolute,  we  should  find  it  absolutely 
invariable  through  all  time  and  space.  Once  more,  the 
fundamental  principle  of  Positivism,  as  we  saw,  is  that 
"  it  regards  all  phenomena  as  subject  to  invariable  laws." 
The  Sensualistic  philosophy  concurs  in  this  as  a  funda- 
mental dictum,  thus  committing  the  absurdity  of  seek- 
ing in  an  objective  fact  (if  it  is  a  fact)  a  regulative  sub- 
jective law  of  thought.  However,  passing  by  this-  sole- 
cism, we  observe  that  they  infer  from  it  that  all  super- 
natural facts  are  necessarily  incredible,  because  the 
conviction  that  such  a  fact  had  occurred,  would  fatally 
dislocate  our  very  laws  of  thought,  as  the  event  itself 
would  dislocate  the  laws  of  nature. 

This  is  really  the  same  statement  with  that  of  Hume's 
famous  argument  against  the  credibility  of  miracles, 
save  that  the  recent  unbelievers  put  it  with  more  bold- 
ness and  candor.  According  to  Hume,  it  is  experi- 
ence only  which  gives  authority  to  human  testimony, 
and  it  is  the  same  experience  which  assures  us  of  the 
uniformity  of  the  laws  of  nature.  When,  therefore, 
these  two  kinds  of  experience  are  contrary,  we  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  subtract  the  one  from  the  other, 
and  embrace  an  opinion  either  on  the  one  side  or  the 
other,  with  that  assurance  which  arises  from  the  re- 
mainder. But  according  to  the  principles  here  explain- 
ed, this  subtraction,  with  regard  to  all  popular  relig- 
ions, amounts  to  an  entire  annihilation  ;  and,  therefore, 
we  may  establish  it  as  a  maxim,  that  no  human  testi- 
mony can  have  such  force  as  to  prove  a  miracle,  and  to 
make  it  a  just  foundation  for  any  such  system  of  re- 
ligion. 

Now  there  is  a  sufficient  refutation  of  ajl  this  in  the 
familiar  fact,  that  our  own  wills  are,  consciously,  con- 


Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

tinually  originating-  effects  of  which  nature,  i.  e.,  physi- 
cal force,  is  not  the  efficient :  and  that  our  wills  are 
continually  superseding  this  force  to  a  certain  extent. 
Let  us  take  a  most  familiar  instance,  of  the  like  of  which 
the  daily  experience  of  every  working-man  furnishes  him 
with  a  hundred.  ,  The  natural  law  of  liquids  requires 
water  to  seek  its  own  level ;  requires  this  only,  and  al- 
ways. But  the  peasant,  by  the  intervention  of  his  own 
free-agency,  originates  absolutely  the  opposite  effect ;  he 
causes  it  to  ascend  from  its  natural  level  in  the  tube  of 
his  pump.  He  adopts  the  just,  empirical,  and  "posi- 
tive" method,  for  tracing  this  phenomenon  to  its  true 
cause.  He  observes  that  the  rise  of  the  water  is  effect- 
ed by  the  movement  of  a  lever;  that  this  lever  is  not 
the  true  cause,  for  it  is  moved  by  his  arm  ;  that  this 
arm  also  is  not  the  true  cause,  being  but  a  lever  of  flesh 
and  bone,  which  is  moved  by  nerves;  and  finally,  that 
these  nervous  chords  are  but  conductors  of  an  impulse 
which,  his  consciousness  assures  him,  he  himself  emit- 
ted by  a  function  of  his  spontaneity.  As  long  as  the 
series  of  pJienomena  were  affections  of  matter,  they  did 
not  disclose  to  him  the  cause  of  the  water's  rise  against 
its  own  natural  law.  It  was  only  when  he  traced  the 
chain  back  to  his  own  self-originated  and  spiritual  act, 
that  he  found  the  true  cause.  Here,  then,  is  an  actual, 
experimental  phenomenon,  which  has  arisen  without, 
yea,  above  natural,  physical  law.  According  to  the 
Positivist,  nature  discloses  only  the  forces  of  matter; 
this  cause  was  outside  of  and  above  matter.  It  was, 
upon  his  scheme  (not  ours),  literally  supernatural.  Yet 
that  this  cause  acted,  was  experimentally  certain  ;  cer- 
tain by  the  testimony  of  consciousness.  And  if  its  testi- 
mony is  not  experimental  and  "positive,"  then  no 
phenomenon  in  physics  is  so,  even  though  seen  by  actual 
eyesight;  because  it  is  impossible  that  sensation  can 
inform  the  m'pd,  save  through  this  same  consciousness. 
But  now,  when  this  peasant  is  thus  "positively  "  taught 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         349 

that  his  own  intelligent  will  is  a  fountain  of  effects  out- 
side of,  and  above,  material  nature,  and  when  he  lifts 
his  eyes  to  the  orderly  contrivances  and  wonderful  in- 
genuity displayed  in  the  works  of  nature,  and  sees  in 
these  the  experimental  proofs  of  the  presence  of  another 
personal  intelligence  there,  kindred  to  his  own,  but  im- 
measurably grander,  how  can  he  doubt  that  this  supe- 
rior mind  has  also,  in  its  will,  another  primary  source 
of  effects  above  nature?  This  is  as  valid  an  induction 
as  the  physicist  ever  drew  from  his  maxim,  "  Like 
causes,  like  effects."  We  thus  see  it  is  not  true  that 
the  "positive,"'  or  "  experimental  method,"  presents 
any  difficulty  in  the  way  of  admitting  the  supernatural. 
On  the  contrary,  it  requires  tjie  admission;  that  is  to 
say,  unless  we  commit  the  absurdity  of  denying  our 
own  conscious  spontaneity.  Will  it  be  objected,  that 
the  pump  also  raises  the  water  in  virtue  of  another 
natural  law,  that  of  pneumatic  pressure?  Just  so: 
the  instance  is  all  the  better,  in  that  it  shows  us  how  a 
personal  will  can  combine  with  these  natural  laws,  and 
produce,  by  occasion  of  the  natural  force,  an  effect 
which  expresses  the  intelligent  will  above  nature.  It 
is  precisely  thus  Christianity  teaches  us  God  employs 
His  own  natural  agents.  It  is  thus  the  supernatural 
underlies  the  natural. 

The  difficulty,  indeed,  can  only  have  force  with  an 
atheist.  For  if  there  is  a  Creator,  if  He  is  a  personal, 
intelligent,  and  voluntary  Being,  then  since  it  is  always 
possible  that  He  may  see  a  motive  in  Himself  for  an  un- 
usual intervention  in  His  own  possessions,  our  experi- 
ence of  our  own  free-agency  makes  it  every  way  prob- 
able that  He  may  intervene  on  occasion.  No  rational 
man,  who  conducts  his  own  affairs  customarily  on  regu- 
lar methods,  but  occasionally  by  unusual  expedients 
(when  he  has  an  adequate  motive),  can  fail  to  concede  a 
similar  free-agency  to  God,  if  there  is  a  God.  This 
noted  argument  against  the  supernatural  is,  therefore, 


350  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

a  vicious  circle.  It  excludes  a  God,  because  it  cannot 
admit  the  supernatural;  and  lo !  its  only  ground  for 
not  admitting  the  supernatural  is  the  denial  of  a  God. 

The  truth  is,  that  nature  necessarily  implies  the 
supernatural.  Nature  herself  shows  us  the  marks  and 
proofs  that  she  was  not  eternal  nor  self-existent.  .She 
had,  therefore,  an  origin  in  a  creation.  To  deny  this  is 
atheism.  But  what  can  be  more  miraculous  than  a 
creation?  If  it  were  indeed  impossible  that  there 
should  be  a  miracle,  then  this  nature  herself  would  be 
non-existent,  whose  uniformities  give  the  pretext  for 
this  denial  of  the  supernatural.  Nature  tells  us  that 
her  causes  are  second  causes ;  they  suggest  their  origin 
in  a  First  Cause.  Just  as  a  river  suggests  its  fountains, 
so  do  the  laws  of  Nature,  now  flowing  in  so  regular  a 
current,  command  us  to  ascend  to  the  source  who  in- 
stituted them. 

The  pretended  argument  of  Hume  against  the  credi- 
bility of  miracles  has  received  repeated  answers,  which 
need  not  be  here  repeated.  The  sophisms  of  it  appear 
in  a  more  general  and,  therefore,  a  more  plausible  form, 
in  the  argument  against  the  possibility  of  a  supernatu- 
ral effect,  which  1  stated  on  page  347th.  But  all  their 
plausibility  is  removed  by  the  following  truths.  Man's 
reliance  on  testimony  is  not  the  result  of  experience, 
but  is  limited  and  corrected  by  experience.  The  child 
believes  the  testimony  of  his  parent  before  he  has  ex- 
perimented upon  it :  believes  it  by  an  instinct  of  his 
reason.  How  poor,  how  beggarly,  then,  is  the  arith- 
metic which  proposes  to  strike  a  balance  between  the 
weight  of  our  experiences  for  the  Christian  testimony 
and  our  experience  of  the  uniformities  of  nature ! 
Problems  of  moral  thought  are  not  to  be  thus  dis- 
patched, like  a  grocer's  traffic  !  On  this  species  of 
logic  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  believe  the  Nat- 
uralist, whose  character  I  most  revered,  and  whose 
word  I  most,  honored,  when  he  told  me  of  the  grand  en- 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         351 

dogenous  trees  of  the  tropics:  for  I  have  seen  marry 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  trees,  for  myself;  and  every 
single  one  was  an  exogen.  Ah,  says  our  modern  phi- 
losopher, but  there  is  nothing  incredible  &  priori  in 
Nature's  producing  endogens  in  the  tropics.  I  reply, 
first:  There  is  no  more  unlikelihood  that  a  personal 
God  should  intervene,  if  He  see^  fit,  in  His  own  affairs, 
in  a  manner  unusual  to  my  narrow  observation:  And 
second  :  That  my  instance  has  revealed  the  \ys\& petitio 
principii  in  the  pretended  argument;  for  it  now  turns 
out  that  the  incredibility  of  the  supernatural  is  held  by 
our  opponents  to  be  h  priori,  and  not  a  consequence  of 
this  worthless  balancing  of  experiences. 

The  second  truth  bearing  on  the  case  is  (one  already 
illustrated),  that  no  uniformity  of  experience  concern- 
ing a  given  sequence  can  demonstrate  its  necessity.  It 
suggests  only  a  probability.  None  should  know  this  so 
well  as  the  physicist,  for  it  is  his  business  to  understand 
the  nature  of  demonstrative  induction.  [See  page 
277,]  If  then,  Reason,  from  any  other  source  of  her 
teachings,  suggests'that  the  acting  cause  may  have  been 
superseded  by  another  adequate  cause,  she  regards  a 
new  and  unusual  effect  as  entirely  possible,  although 
she  had  before  only  witnessed  the  recurrence  of  the 
other,  and  that  with  unbroken  regularity.  That  possi- 
ble other  cause,  reason  does  recognize  in  a  sovereign 
God.  For, 

Third :  the  experiential  is  not  the  only  source  of  our 
valid  judgments.  How  often  is  this  impregnable  fact 
to  be  forgotten  ?  The  reason  has  its  constitutive  pow- 
ers, which,  when  the  suitable  occasion  arises,  give  us 
their  truths  over  and  above  our  objective  experience. 
Hence  it  is,  by  the  most  rigid  conclusion,  demonstrated 
that  an  asserted  truth  is  not  incredible,  simply  because 
it  lies  outside  our  whole  experience.  In  view  of  these 
three  remarks,  it  is  obvious  that  the  universal  observa- 
tion of  a  perfect  regularity  in  the  action  of  second 


352  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

causes  is  inadequate  to  prove  that  the  unusual  action 
of  a  First  Cause  is  incredible.  For  illustration,  by  pre- 
cisely this  logic,  every  new  and  unexpected  effect  of 
'natural  powers  must  also  have  been  absolutely  incredi- 
ble. "  Universal  human  experience  "  did  not  contain 
a  particle  of  ground  for  the  assertion  of  such  a  new 
effect.  The  effect  of  gunpowder  must  have  been  abso- 
lutely incredible,  That  ships  should  be  propelled  with- 
out sails  and  oars  must  have  been  absolutely  incredible. 
That  a  message  should  be  instantaneously  communi- 
cated, and  that  without  writing,  must  have  been  abso- 
lutely incredible.  But  multitudes  of  people  believed 
in  cannons,  steamships,  and  magnetic  telegraphs,  with- 
out experience,  on  mere  testimony.  Did  they  proceed 
unreasonably  ? 

Fourth  :  The  premise  of  this  boastful  argument  claims 
that  universal  observation  shows  us  natural  law  work- 
ing always  and  everywhere  uniformly.  This  is  not  a 
correct  statement  of  the  fact.  Not  repeating  the  ex- 
ception, that  the  reason  compels  us  to  refer  nature 
itself  to  a  supernatural  creation,  I  remind  the  unbeliev- 
er, that  there  is  an  existing  testimony  to  frequent  un- 
usual effects  above  nature,  in  the  past  experience  of 
man.  There  was  a  time  when  water  did  not  "  run  down 
hill,"  to  wit:  while  Joshua  was  crossing  the  Jordan. 
There  was  a  time  when  death  did  not  retain  his  natural 
power  over  the  corpse,  namely :  on  the  morning  of  the 
first  Christian  Lord's  day.  But  that  is  the  Christian 
testimony,  the  credibility  of  which  is  the  thing  in  de- 
bate? Just  so  ;  and  therefore  the  disputant  shall  not  be 
allozvedto  assume  its  falsehood  in  his  premise :  the  logical 
task  he  undertook  was,  to  prove  its  falsehood  in  his 
conclusion.  It  is  also  worthy  of  mention  here,  that 
some  of  these  supernatural  effects  are  also  attested  by 
heathen  testimony.  But  the  assumption  is  false  again, 
in  overlooking  another  exception  :  the  rise  of  every  in- 
dependent species  in  palaeontology  is  an  observed  and 


Philosophy  and  the  SitpernaturaL          353 

experimental  instance  of  supernatural  power.  Nature 
has  no  regular,  ordinary  power  of  producing  new  spe- 
cies ;  yet  the  rise  of  many  such  is  experimentally  cer- 
tain. Retrenching  these  assumptions,  then,  all  that 
experience  authorizes  us  to  assert  is,  that  nature  acts 
uniformly  according  to  the  laws  of  second  causes,  in 
the  present  age  of  the  world,  and  within  the  limited 
compass  of  our  competent  observation.  But  that  com- 
pass is  a  mere  patch,  compared  with  the  whole  uni- 
verse. Let  not  the  physicist,  now  mislead  himself  by 
telling  us  of  his  telescope,  which  has  made  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  laws  of  the  planetary  and  sidereal 
heavens.  About  the  stars  he  has  found  out  a  few  things, 
while  myriads  of  things  which  may  be  going  on  within 
or  upon  them,  are  totally  unknown.  He  thinks  he 
knows  very  certainly  that  the  planet  Jupiter  and  his 
moons  regularly  obey  the  same  law  of  orbitual  motion 
with  the  earth.  Well.  But  was  the  astronomer  on 
that  planet  able  to  detect  any  sign,  by  his  telescope, 
upon  the  face  of  our  little  planet,  on  that  morning  when 
Christ  burst  the  bands  of  death  in  the  garden  near  Je- 
rusalem ?  Of  the  vastly  larger  part  of  the  events  now 
occurring  in  the  universe  we  know  nothing,  and  we 
are  therefore  not  entitled  by  our  experience  to  say 
whether  they  are  all  arising  naturally,  or  some  super- 
naturally.  The  imagination  is  overweening. 

Fifth :  An  exaggerated  use  is  made  of  the  concep- 
tion sometimes  heedlessly  given  of  supernatural  effects, 
as  "violating  natural  laws,"  "  reversing  natural  laws," 
or  "  suspending  natural  laws."  Hence  the  recent  phi- 
losopher concludes,  that  the  supernatural  effect  would 
be,  somehow,  irreconcilable  with  the  regular  system 
of  nature.  He  speaks  of  it  as  what  would  necessarily 
"disorder"  or  "  dislocate  "  nature  ;  and  he  appeals  to 
human  experience  and  scientific  observation  to  say 
whether  any  signs  of  such  dislocation  anywhere  remain. 
Now,  in  fact,  in  the  sense  of  the  objector,  no  supernatu- 
23 


354  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

ral  effect  which  a  wise  Creator  and  providential  Ruler 
would  work,  is  a  violation,  or  a  reversal,  or  even  a  sus- 
pension of  natural  laws.  It  is  simply  a  new  effect  wholly 
above  the  power  of  natural  second  causes.  It  is  a  part  of 
the  consistent,  all-wise  plan-  of  Him  who  made,  and  is 
now  steadily  ruling,  His  universe  according  to  His  eter- 
nal purpose.  It  makes  no  dislocation,  no  jar  even,  in 
the  machinery  of  nature.  Let  us  take  any  instance  of 
such  an  effect,  as  described  in  the  Christian  Scriptures. 
If  their  testimony  is  true,  there  was  a  human  body  su- 
pernaturally  produced  in  the  case  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 
Well,  that  body  was  nourished,  grew,  lived,  and  moved 
just  as  naturally  as  any  other  that  came  by  ordinary 
generation.  There  was  also  a  human  soul  miraculously 
produced,  which  possessed  superhuman  endowments 
of  holiness  and  wisdom.  But  even  this  spirit  was  not, 
in  its  functions  and  progress,  contra-natural ;  these  were 
only  nature  assisted  and  rendered  more  normal.  This 
holy  soul  acquired  knowledge,  and  acted,  and  thought, 
precisely  according  to  the  laws  of  man's  rational  nature, 
as  reinstated  and  rendered  in  the  best  sense  natural.  In 
the  house  of  Jairus  there  was  a  youthful  form  miracu- 
lously delivered  from  the  hand  of  death.  But  from  the 
moment  Jesus  delivered  the  reanimated  girl  to  her  par- 
ents, she  ate  natural  food  and  resumed  the  natural  func- 
tions of  life  just  as  fully  as  other  children.  In  Jairus' 
family  there  was  no  more  dislocations  of  regular  routine 
than  if  the  sick  girl  had  been  healed  by  natural  means. 
These  instances  disclose  the  simple  truth.  God's  mira- 
cles cohere  perfectly  with  God's  providence  in  ordinary, 
natural  things,  because  both  are  the  works  of  the  same 
wise  hand.  The  first  miracle  was  creation.  We  saw 
that  the  thing  produced  by  every  creation  must  have 
been  just  as  natural  in  structure  as  what  afterward 
arose  from  nature.  Everything,  when  created,  passed 
promptly  and  smoothly  tinder  the  designed  domain  of 
natural  law.  Obviously,  then,  it  is  just 'as  un  warrant- 


Philosophy  .and  the  Supernatural.         355 

able  to  think  of  a  subsequent  effect  as  "  dislocating  nat- 
ure," as  it  would  be  to  imagine  any  outrage  of  nature 
in  those  first  creative  acts  which  gave  Nature  her  nor- 
mal sway.  The  Book  of  Job  tells  us  that,  when  God 
laid  the  corner-stone  of  the  earth,  "  the  morning-stars 
sang  together,  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy." 
According  to  the  modern  philosophy,  instead  of  seeing 
in  another  supernatural  act  a  theme  of  rational  praise, 
they  should  have  had  their  reason  dislocated  and  their 
thinking  confounded.  The  miraculous  is,  then,  an  effect 
which  is,  in  one  aspect,  i.  e.,  in  the  cause  of  its  rise 
above  nature,  and  yet  is,  in  its  own  essence,  conformed 
to  nature.  It  neither  dislocates  the  understanding  nor 
the  orderly  working  of  Providence ;  yet,  if  verified,  it 
attests  the  presence  of  God. 

Once  more,  all  these  objections  to  the  credibility  of 
the  supernatural  imply  the  assumption, that  the  present 
system  of  nature  is  the  complete  and  normal  one.  If  it 
is  not,vif  disorder  has  anyhow  entered,  and  if  there  is  a 
personal  God  over  nature,  then  it  is  every  way  credi- 
ble that  He  will  intervene  to  correct  existing  evils,  and 
to  reform  the  erroneous  workings.  This  is  so  obvious, 
that  the  advocates  of  the  anti-supernatural  uniformly 
ignore  the  truth  that  nature  is  evidently  in  a  disordered 
state.  They  always  speak  as  though  it  were  in  its 
normal  state.  They  leave  out  the  fall  of  man,  by  which. 
"  the  creation  was  made  subject  to  vanity ;  "  and  shut 
their  eyes  to  all  the  symptoms  of  its  "  groaning  and 
travailing  in  pain  until  now."  But  this  no  consistent 
philosophy  can  do.  I  showed  in  the  last  chapter,  the 
rudimental  fact,  that  man's  disposition  and  his  reason 
are  universally  and  obstinately  at  war.  Here  we  found 
a  fundamental  dislocation  indeed,  in  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  man's  soul,  which  it  was  impossible  to  refer  to 
the  constructive  power  of  the  infinite  reason ;  we  were 
compelled  to  ascribe  it  to  some  fatal  abuse  of  sponta- 
neity in  the  creature.  And  here  we  find  the  clue  to  ex- 


356  Sensnalistic  Philosophy. 

plain  the  manifest  disorders  in  material  nature.  Which, 
now,  is  the  more  rational  expectation  :  That  the  all- 
Wise  Maker  will  leave  the  work  of  His  hand  a  prey  to 
the  disorder,  to  obey  the  perverted  and  disordered 
laws  of  a  nature  that  is  marred  ?  Or,  that  He  hath  sub- 
jected the  creation  to  vanity  "  in  hope,"  with  the  pur- 
pose of  intervening  at  suitable  times  to  retrieve  that 
beneficent  purpose  which  guided  Him  in  the  world's 
production  ?  The  answer  will  be  easy  to  the  unsophis- 
ticated mind  :  If  nature  has  a  Master,  and  nature  is  not 
what  she  ought  to  be,  we  may  expect  her  Master  to 
jnterpose  for  her  amendment. 

This  supposed  difficulty  in  the  admission  of  the  super- 
natural is  thoughtlessly  echoed  by  some  who  profess  to 
be  friends  to  religion.  They  have  not  considered  (what 
the  instincts  of  the  objectors  have  taught  them)  that 
the  objection  is  virtually  against  the  possibility  of 
all  religion.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  religion  worth  the 
name,  without  the  supernatural.  God  Himself  is  super- 
natural. Revelation  is  a  supernatural  event  in  the 
sphere  of  thought.  Christ's  person  was  supernatural, 
as  truly  as  His  miracles  and  resurrection.  Since  man's 
nature  is  ruined,  and  this  is  what  originates  the  neces- 
sity, redemption  must  be  supernatural,  in  some  sort; 
this  is  so  obvious  as  to  be  almost  a  truism.  The  events 
.  which  are  to  close  the  history  of  each  soul,  and  of  the 
world,  will  be  supernatural.  When  men  give  up  this 
feature,  then,  they  give  up,  not  merely  one  species  of 
the  evidence  for x the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  but  the  very 
possibility  of  any  religion  :  they  are  virtual  atheists. 

There  is  one  more  head  of  argument  to  be  unfolded, 
of  transcendent  breadth  and  force,  by  which  sound 
philosophy  proves  that'  nature  is  actually  grounded  in 
the  supernatural,  not  only  for  her  origin,  but  her  pres- 
ent subsistence.  The  first  premise  of  it  is  found  in  the 
doctrine  of  providence.  It  is  with  strange  emotions 
that  I  ask  the  question :  Whether  it  is  necessary  to 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         357 

establish  this  premise  before  using  it?  Do  I  write  in  a 
Christian  age  and  country;  and  must  I  still  argue  the 
truth  admitted  by  all  thoughtful  Pagans:  that  there  is 
a  rational  and  moral  order  impressed  upon  the  affairs 
of  this  world  ?  Is  it  still  needful  to  argue  this  truth, 
upon  which  the  whole  logic  of  Bp.  Butler's  Analogy  is 
founded  ;  which  is  implied  in  every  fear  and  throe  of  re- 
morse in  sinner's  hearts  ;  which  is  read  in  the  connection 
of  all  kinds  of  events  in  all  sciences,  by  proofs  as  empi- 
rical and  "  positive"  as  those  which  support  the  exist- 
ence of  heat  or  electricity  ?  There  is  a  providential 
will  above  us  which  combines  with  all  the  laws  of  sec- 
cond  causes  in  some  way.  Now,  whatever  theory  we 
may  hold  concerning  the  mode  in  which  this  superior 
intelligence  enters  into  the  effects  of  second  causes; 
whether  we  hold  the  preestablished  harmony  of  Leib- 
nitz, or  the  scholastic  theory  of  Aquinas,  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards, and  Dugald  Stewart,  that  the  first  Cause  is  really 
the  only  efficient,  and  that  second  causes  are  but  the 
forms  or  methods  of  His  ordinary  acting;  or  the  more 
rational  theory  of  the  Duke  of  Argyle  (Reign  of  Law)  ; 
or  whether  we  refrain  from  all  theories  of  explanation  ; 
that  providential  will  is  the  supernatural.  It  is  above 
nature,  in  that  it  governs  her.  It  is  above  nature,  in 
that  it  exerts  other  powers  than  merely  those  of  sec- 
ond causes,  in  guiding,  if  not  in  moving.  '  And  it  is  a 
present  cause,  ft  "  surrounds  our  down-sitting  and 
our  uprising,  and  s  acquainted  with  all  our  ways."  It 
teaches  us  that  Nature  only  exists  by  reason  of  the 
supernatural. 

I  will  not  go  into  the  metaphysics  by  which  the  two 
older  hypotheses  as  to  God's  relations  to  second  causes 
were  supported  and  .refuted.  That  of  Leibnitz  prob- 
ably has  no  serious  advocate  in  our  day  :  that  of  the 
Thomists  will  certainly  not  be  advocated  by  the  Sensu- 
alistic  philosopher,  seeing  it  is  more  destructive  to  his 
system  than  even  the  true  one.  For  in  making  God 


358  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

the  real  Efficient  in  every  act  of  His  ordinary  prov- 
idence, it  really  makes  second  causes  mere  simulacra  of 
powers,  mere  masks  behind  which  God  ordinarily  hides 
His  present  hand;  and  it  answers  the  denial  of  the  su- 
pernatural, by  making  all  nature's  work  such.  Where- 
as the  anti-Christian  philosopher  seeks  to  push  God  out 
of  nature,  this  scheme  answers  by  pushing  nature  aside 
and  placing  her  whole  powers  in  God's  hand. 

The  ascertained  truth  from  which  we  start,  then,  is 
this  :  That  there  is  a  present  controlling  providence  of 
the  First  Cause  over  all  Second  Causes.  The  problem 
is:  How  does  it  combine  with  them?-  This  question 
raises  another  :  What  are  Second  Causes  ?  Now  let  us 
be  content  here,  again,  with  the  philosophy  of  common 
sense,  which  regards  dependent  beings  as  possessing  a 
true  being  and  permanency.  Each  essential  property 
of  things  is  a  power  in  posse,  or  the  potency  of  an  actual 
second  cause.  But,  in  order  that  one  of  these  poten- 
tial properties  may  become  cause,  or  exert  power,  a 
certain  relation  must  be  established  between  the  thing 
or  being  it  inhabits,  and  the  other  being  which  is  to 
receive  the  effect.  Each  effect  is,  then,  in  reality,  the 
result  of  the  action  or  counteraction  of  more  than  one 
power.  That  is  to  say  :  Cause  is  always  complex.  A 
natural  power  exists  while  it  is  not  acting ;  its  passage 
from  passivity  to  activity  is  simply  its  release  from  some 
counter-action  of  another  power.  The  providence,  then, 
consists  in  the  secret  combinations  and  regulations  of 
this  counter-action.  Hence,  it  not  only  allows,  but 
requires,  the  permanency,  the  uniformity,  and  the  real- 
ity of  the  natural  powers  in  the  second  causes.  It  is 
because  these  continue,  that  this  rational  providence  is 
able  to  use  Nature  in  such  a  way  as  to  effectuate, 
through  her,  special  functions  showing  final  causes. 
Let  us  consider,  for  example,  a  special  and  familiar  case 
of  a  personal  providence,  pursuing  such  a  special  func- 
tion ;  that  of  the  clock-maker.  There  are  two  mechan- 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         359 

ical  laws  of  which  he  chiefly  avails  himself.  One  is, 
that  the  gravity  of  a  mass  of  lead  suspended  freely,  will 
give  him  a  constant  motive  power,  of  a  certain  force. 
The  other  is,  that  a  pendulum  having  the  length  of 
thirty-nine  and  a  certain  fraction  of  inches,  will  swing, 
when  thrust  aside,  in  beats  of  one  second.  By  bring- 
ing the  force  of  his  dependent  weight  to  bear,  through 
an  escapement,  upon  the  side  of  his  pendulum,  he  pro- 
duces this  regular  and  designed  result.  His  weight 
does  not  accelerate  its  motion  in  descending  as  it  other- 
wise would  ;  and  his  pendulum  does  not  become  quies- 
cent from  friction  and  atmospheric  resistance,  as  it  other- 
wise would.  The  result  is,  the  special  function  of  a  time- 
piece. This  function  can  be  regulated,  arrested,  or 
changed,  at  the  will  of  the  maker;  the  clock  can  be 
made  to  keep  sidereal  or  solar  time,  true  or  false.  Now, 
it  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  maker  does  not  effect  this 
control  through  any  infringing  of  the  two  natural  laws 
he  uses  ;  but  by  not  infringing  them.  The  providen- 
tial result  is  not  obtained  by  virtue  of  any  irregularity 
of  the  two  laws,  but  by  virtue  of  their  invariable 
regularity.  It  is  precisely  because  the  law  of  gravity 
expressing  itself  in  the  traction  of  the  dependent  mass 
of  lead,  and  in  the  changeless  beat  of  the  second's  pen- 
dulum, is  absolutely  regular,  that  he  is  able  to  carry 
out  his  purpose,  and  to  establish  the  special  function. 
It  is  this  regularity  of  natural  law  which  enables  him  to 
vary  the  working  of  his  clock  at  will. 

Thus,  yet  in  a  manner  never  fully  revealed  to  us,  the 
Almighty  Providence  employs  the  powers  which  reside 
in  created  things,  to  effectuate  all  His  special  purposes. 
The  fact  that  no  regular  law  is  infringed  does  not  imply 
that  His  superintendence  is  excluded :  it  is  by  means 
of  that  very  regularity  that  He  works.  He  guides 
with  His  skillful  but  invisible  hand  to  just  those  combi- 
nations which  release  the  powers  of  the  second  causes 
He  needs  for  His  purpose,  and  reduce  to  potentiality 


360  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

those  whose  tasks  are  for  the  time  completed.  It  is 
thus  that  perpetual  providence  enters,  which  we  are 
compelled  to  grant,  as  much  by  the  nature  of  created 
things  and  the  requirements  of  our  own  reason,  as  by 
the  testimony  of  Scripture.  But  when  once  we  learn 
this  great  truth,  that  all  the  natural  reposes  immedi- 
ately upon  the  unseen  supernatural,  our  difficulty  is  at 
an  end,  in  admitting  the  credible  testimony  to  the  oc- 
currence of  visible  miracles,  at  a  ncd-is  vindice  dignus. 

We  have  now  reached  a  point  where  it  becomes  easy 
to  refute  the  frivolous  objection  against  the  possibility 
of  an  answer  to  prayer  from  the  stability  of  nature. 
That  objection  sets  out  by  assuming  the  absolute  and 
universal  regularity  of  natural  laws.  No  effect  is  to  be 
looked  for  save  from  and  through  them,  says  the  cavil- 
ler. But  every  effect  is  already  potentially  in  its  causes  : 
they  existing,  it  is  as  impossible  that  the  effect  can  be 
arrested  as  that  the  actual  past  can  be  recalled.  For 
instance :  a  company  of  people  in  a  ship  are  informed 
by  the  captain  that  the  vessel  cannot  live  in  so  rough  a 
sea  more  than  six  hours  longer.  Thereupon  the  Chris- 
tians present  persuade  the  frightened  passengers  to 
pray  for  an  earlier  change  of  weather ;  and  if  it  hap- 
pens to  come,  and  they  survive  to  tell  the  story,  they 
cease  not  to  boast  in  the  case  as  a  manifest  and  specific 
answer  to  prayer.  But,  says  the  caviller,  this  is  all  su- 
perstition. That  tempestuous  sea  was  the  regular  phys- 
ical effect  of  meteorologic  causes  already  established, 
and  existing  over  the  ocean,  which,  in  turn,  were  con- 
nected with  other  movements,  past  and  present,  em- 
bracing our  whole  globe,  and  were  the  inevitable  re- 
sults of  other  movements  now  in  the  irrevocable  past. 
Hence  the  continuance  or  cessation  of  the  storm  is  po- 
tentially decided  in  other  causal  movements  already 
established,  or  even  already  past.  If  the  storm  were 
destined  to  subside  within  the  six  hours,  it  would  have 
done  so  just  the  same  without  the  prayers ;  if  it  was 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.          361 

not  destined  to  cease,  the  prayers  were  futile.  Prof. 
Tyndal,  as  all  the  world  remembers,  proposed  to  sub- 
ject the  justice  of  this  theory  to  a  "  physical  test/'  which 
the  Christian  writers  were  more  successful  in  scolding 
than  in  refuting.  His  plan  was  the  following :  Let  a 
multitude  of  poor  men,  sick  to  an  equal  degree  with 
the  same  diseases,  be  divided  equally  into  two  wards 
of  a  hospital,  and  let  them  receive,  in  every  respect, 
the  same  curative  treatment.  Let  the  Christian  people 
pray  fervently  for  those  in  one  ward,  and  not  at  all  for 
those  in  the  other;  but  let  not  the  sufferers  on  either 
side  know  anything  of  this,  lest  their  imaginations, 
stimulated  by  hope  or  fear,  should  react  favorably  or 
otherwise  on  their  bodily  condition.  Then,  a  faithful 
record  of  the  percentage  of  recoveries  and  deaths  would 
reveal,  by  a  physical  test,  whether  prayer  efficaciously 
influenced  the  result.  This,  said  he,  is  the  way  in  which 
physicists,  who  argue  from  substantial  facts,  would  pro- 
ceed to  test  the  validity  of  a  law  of  nature ;  and  if  the 
Christians  are  in  earnest,  they  will  be  glad  to  subject 
their  opinion  to  so  honest  a  trial. 

All  that  can  be-  said  of  this  proposal  is,  that  it  has  a 
show  of  plausibility  :  it  might  rise  to  the  height  of  a 
jest,  were  not  jesting  on  such  a  subject  too  unsavory 
for  any  decent  mind.  The  real  answer  to  the  proposal 
is,  that  it  begs  the  very  question  which  it  proposes  to  inves- 
tigate. Every  man  who  can  think  consistently  will  see 
that  the  question,  whether  prayer  is  answered,  turns  on 
this  other:  Is  there  a  personal  Being  exercising  a  pres- 
ent providence  over  us  ?  If  there  is  none,  of  course 
there  is  no  answer  to  prayer ;  if  there  is,  then  He  may 
answer  prayer,  provided  the  perfections  which  guide 
His  will  prompt  Him  to  do  so.  Now,  will  they  thus 
prompt  Him  ?  If  there  is  a  God  in  Providence,  this  is  a 
question  about  a  rational  free-agency.  For  such  a  ques- 
tion a  "  physical  test  "  is  obviously  out  of  the  question  ; 
it  is  mere  conjuring.  Had  Prof.  Tyndal  been  as  famil- 


362  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

iar  with  his  Bible  as  with  his  laboratory,  he  would  have 
perceived  this  by  two  criteria.  One  of  these  is  in  the 
fact  that  the  promises  of  answer  to  prayer  which  Chris- 
tians read  in  this  book,  are  professedly  separated  into 
two  classes.  Some  of  the  prayers  authorized  there  seek 
the  spiritual  benefits  of  redemption  :  others  seek  allowable 
and  innocent  natural  good,  not  essential  to  redemption. 
s  The  promise  of  specific  answers  given  by  the  Christian  s 
God  is  confined  to  the  former  class  of  objects.  For  the  lat- 
ter class  of  objects  we  are  permitted  to  pray ;  but  with 
the  express  information  that  there  is  no  pledge  what- 
ever of  a  specific  answer,  because  the  divine  Omnis- 
cience may  see  that  the  natural  good  craved  is  about 
to  cease  to  be,  on  the  whole,  a  good  ;  or  the  natural 
evil  deprecated  is  ceasing  to  be,  to  this  petitioner,  a 
real  evil.  We  are  taught  to  pray  with  submission,  leav- 
ing the  issue  to  the  general  wisdom  and  mercy  of  the 
divine  Dispenser.  And  this  is  all  the  extent  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptures  really  give  to  any  expectation  of  answer 
which  they  authorize.  Now  the  point  of  the  explana- 
tion is,  that  the  object  of  petition  in  this  proposed  test 
falls  under  this  latter  class:  the  healing  of  sickness  and 
prolongation  of  the  life  of  the  body  are  among  those 
natural  goods  about  which  the  God  we  pray  to  has 
given  no  specific  promise.  If  Prof.  Tyndal  desires  to 
get  his  many  sins  pardoned  through  God's  Son,  or  his 
darkened  mind  enlightened  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ, 
I  am  happy  to  assure  him, that  the  promise  is  perfectly 
explicit,  and  we  are  authorized  to  pledge  him,  with  lit- 
eral exactitude,  that  as  soon  as  he  prays  in  earnest,  he 
will  receive.'  But  if  he  desires  the  healing  of  his  own 
or  any  other  mortal  body,  at  a  specific  time,  God  has 
not  authorized  us  to  give  any  pledge  ;  the  result  must 
be  left  to  His  wisdom  and  compassion,  even  as  the  great 
Redeemer  left  His  prayer  for  deliverance  :  "  Neverthe- 
less, not  my  will,  but  Thine  be  done."  These  are  the 
terms  on  which  we  Christians  hold  our  own  lives.  The 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         363 

test  is,  therefore,  no  test  at  all,  and  was  suggested  in 
sheer  ignorance. 

The  other  criterion  is  this:  that  it  requires  a  personal 
will  of  the  most  venerable  nature  to  promise  to  submit 
itself  to  a  needless  test,  upon  a  demand  which  can  only 
appear  petulant  and  insolent.  Unless  the  test  is  guilty 
of  the  sophism  of  begging  the  very  question  under  in- 
vestigation, I  repeat,  it  must  be  assumed  that  possibly 
there  may  be  such  a  venerable,  personal  will,  concerned 
in  answering  our  prayers.  But  if  there  is,  it  is  every 
way  probable,  if  not  certain,  that  he  will  see  an  ade- 
quate, rational  motive  in  his  own  self-respect,  for  de- 
clining to  respond  to  such  a  test,  after  he  has  published 
his  promises  on  that  point.  Hence,  the  failure  of  the 
attempted  test  would  leave  us  entirely  in  the  dark :  it 
would  prove  nothing,  save  God's  displeasure  at  our 
impertinence.  It  is.  presumed  that,  had  Prof.  Tyndal 
pledged  himself  to  deliver  a  certain  course  of  lectures, 
and  had  he  then  been  required  to  make  a  voluntary  re- 
sponse to  a  course  of  experiments  designed  to  ascertaia 
whether  he  was  a  person  who  could  be  trusted  to  keep 
his  word,  they  would  have  proved  decided  failures. 
And  it  may  be  safely  surmised,  that  were  I  to  argue 
from  his  contemptuous  silence  under  those  experi- 
ments, that  he  cannot  be  trusted  to  keep  his  word,  I 
should  incur  his  certain  resentment.  I  now  dismiss 
this  point  with  the  question  :  Has  the  Almighty  less 
right  to  protect  His  own  self-respect  than  P,of.  Tyn- 
dal ? 

In  addressing  ourselves  to  the  more  serious  argument 
attempted  against  the  possibility  of  Providential  inter- 
ventions to  answer  prayer,  I  call  the  student's  attention 
to  some  obvious  remarks.  First:  That  argument,  if 
valid,  would  only  apply  to  the  kind  of  good  explained 
above,  as  natural,  allowable  good,  of  which  the  Scrip- 
tures never  say  that  God  is  pledged  to  bestow  it  upon 
petitioners  certainly.  The  whole  sphere  of  redemp- 


364  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

tion  is  left  untouched,  including-  all  the  blessings  of  God 
to  the  soul,  as  consisting  in  His  own  pardoning  acts 
and  communications  of  grace.  These  lie  outside  the 
difficulties  arising  out  of  the  supposed  rigiditj  of  ma- 
terial laws.  Second  :  It  is  not  necessary,  in  order  to 
meet  the  cav7il,  to  enable  the  physical  philosopher  actu- 
ally to  detect  the  secret  hand  of  God,  directing  a  new 
specific  effect  to  emergence  through  natural  laws,  and 
to  show  the  caviller  how  it  is  done.  All  that  is  neces- 
sary is,  to  evince  that  the  act  is  feasible  for  omnipo- 
tence ;  that  is,  to  show  that, for  such  power, it  is  not  im- 
possible. The  justice  of  this  remark  is  evident  to  the 
modest  reason.  Every  physicist  claims  credit  from  the 
unlearned  in  the  parallel  case.  For  instance,  he  shows 
the  peasant  that  a  message  is  actually  sent  and  answered 
by  the  magnetic  telegraph  ;  he  tells  him  that  there  is  a 
way  to  do  it,  by  means  of  a  knowledge  giving  to  a  per- 
sonal will  a  control  over  physical  laws.  He  does  not 
pretend  to  enable  the  peasant  to  comprehend  that  way. 
But  he  expects  to  be  believed!  Again:  God -is  a 
spirit ;  His  providential  intervention  is  a  spiritual 
agency.  But  no  action  of  spirit  reveals  itself  to  physic- 
al tests  or  the  bodily  senses:  none  can  be  described  in 
terms  of  material  science. .  Can  the  physiologist  detect 
the  actual  mode  in  which  his  own  spirit  emits  a  voli- 
tion to  the  muscles  along  the  efferent  nerves?  But  he 
knows  that  the  spirit  does  it,  and  that,  precisely  accord- 
ing to  the  laws  of  nervous  matter.  God  is  not  the  soul 
of  the  world,  and  matter  is  not  His  body;  but  the 
analogy  is  yet  sufficient  to  reconcile  the  reasonable 
spirit  to  the  mystery. 

Now  it  has  been  well  remarked,  in  reply  to  the  phys- 
ical objection  against  prayer,  that  Nature  (whose  stable 
laws  are  objected)  is  a  system  including  both  minds 
and  matter.  Both  together  make  up  the  complex  ma- 
chine. We  have  discovered  a  few  of  the  established 
methods  by  which  the  powers  in  this  vast  system  inter- 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         365 

act ;  we  know  that  many  of  them  remain  concealed 
from  us.  Spirits  and  matter  can,  and  do,  interact ;  how 
much,  we  do  not  know.  Now  it  may  be  that  the  ties 
of  natural  law  are  such,  that  the  earnest  desires  which 
creatures  utter  to  the  Ruler  of  nature  in  prayer,  are 
links  in  the  chains  of  natural  means  by  which  the  result 
is  produced.  Who  can  disprove  this  ?  Then,  if  this  is 
not  shown  impossible,  it  is  not  impossible  but  that  the 
prayer  may  bring  the  answer  in  strict  accordance  with 
natural  law,  yea,  by  virtue  of  it. 

Again,  every  analogy  known  to  common  sense  shows 
that  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  God  shut  out  from 
intervention  with  the  machinery  which  is  the  work  of 
His  own  hand.  Nature  is  His  invention.  He  confer- 
red its  powers  out  of  His  own  self-existent  omnipotence. 
The  wonders  of  ingenuity  and  wisdom  it  discloses  "are 
parts  of  His  ways;  but  the  thunder  of  His  power  who 
can  understand  ?  "  Now,  is  it  not  an  absurd  repre- 
sentation, that  such  an  Artificer  has  been  baulked 
by  the  very  success  of  His  own  handiwork?  That 
is,  He  exerted  His  perfect  ingenuity  in  making  a  ma- 
chine, and  made  it  so  successfully,  that. by  reason  of  its 
very  completeness,  the  machine  has  shut  out  its  own 
Maker  from  intervention  with  it !  He  has  been  so  skill- 
ful that  the  work  of  His  skill  runs  as  it  pleases,  and  not 
as  He  pleases  !  It  is  not  so  with  any  other  artificer ;  as 
human  art  is  perfected,  its  productions  become  at  once 
more  powerful  and  more  manageable.  What  more 
exactly,  more  rigidly  regulated  as  to  the  laws  of  its  ac- 
tion, than  a  locomotive  engine  ?  The  material  is  iron, 
the  most  inflexible  of  metals.  Its  motive  power  is 
steam,  a  blind,  imprisoned  monster.  Its  might  is  irre- 
sistible by  the  direct  strength  of  men.  Its  track  is  a 
pair  of  iron  bars,  of  inflexible  uniformity,  equi-distant 
from  each  other  everywhere  to  a  fraction  of  an  inch. 
And,  to  crown  all,  this  machine  must  run  backwards 
and  forwards  upon  this  track  by  an  accurate  "  time- 


366  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

table,"  from  which  no  official  can  depart  without  the 
peril  of  destruction  to  himself  and  others.  Yet  this 
tremendous  machine  stops  at  the  cry  of  a  sick  child  ! 
There  is  a  "  Conductor,"  who  knows  the  mode  of  regu- 
lating its  motions  consistently  with  the  regular  laws  of 
its  motion.  So,  there  is  a  "  Conductor  "  who  manages 
the  machinery  of  nature  !  Shall  God  be  represented  as 
inferior  to  His  creature? 

The  objection  against  the  providential  answer  of 
prayer  is  usually  urged,  as  though  all  special  providence 
were  antagonistic  to  the  regular  action  of  second  causes, 
and  could  only  be  effectuated  through  their  disturbance. 
But,  as  we  saw  by  the  illuslr  tion  of  the  clock,  this  is  a 
sheer  mistake.  All  efficient  providence  is  special ; 
the  general  providence  is  only  through  the  special. 
God  exercises  it  not  against,  but  by  means  of,  the  in- 
variable uniformity  of  nature.  It  was  not  because  the 
two  laws  of  gravity  in  the  weight  and  the  pendulum 
were  changeable,  that  the  clockmaker  was  able  to 
modify  the  running  of  his  clock,  but  because  they  are 
changeless.  Had  these  methods  of  natural  force  been 
variable,  then  the  ability  of  this  intelligent  will  to  adapt 
them  to  a  varying  function,  would  have  been  far  less; 
the  task  would  have  been  far  more  difficult  for  him. 
But  because  they  are  invariable,  therefore  his  task  was 
feasible.  He  had  only  to  arrange  for  certain  changes 
of  the  interaction  of  the  two  unchanging  forces,  and  the 
result  was  a  function  changing  at  his  will.  It  is  indis- 
putably possible  for  the  great  World-Maker  to  do*  the 
same  thing,  as  often  as  He  pleases.  We  see  very  clear- 
ly, so  far  as  the  sphere  of  our  intelligent  observation 
goes,  that  each  power  residing  in  second  causes,  when 
released  from  potentiality  into  activity  under  the  same 
conditions,  always  acts  in  the  same  way.  But  we  are 
also  conscious,  if  we  think  correctly,  that  there  is  al- 
ways an  unexplored  mystery  attending  the  mode  of 
that  release  and  arrest.  The  power  comes  out  of  the 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernattiral.         367 

dark,  into  our  observation  and  retires  into  the  dark 
again.  Does  any  one  say,  But  its  release  from  this 
potency  into  activity,  and  its  arrest,  are  both  the  work 
of  other  powers  in  other  second  causes?  This  may  be 
very  true;  and  it  may  also  be  true  that  an  immediate 
Providence  is  guiding  the  one  natural  power  in  its 
modification  of  the  other.  He  does  not  intend  that 
man  shall  expose  and  delineate  the  real  method  of  His 
working.  But  He  gives  us  abundant  signs  of  His  pres- 
ence and  ability. 

Thus,  as  a  sound  and  reverent  philosophy  begins 
with  primitive  and  a  priori  notions,  which,  though  rudi- 
mental  to  all  knowledge,  are  themselves  incomplete,  so 
it  ends  with  conclusions  which  are  demonstrated,  and 
yet  imperfectly  comprehended.  "  Now  I  know  but  in 
part."  Perfect  comprehension  of  truth  is  the  prerogative 
of  the  infinite  Intelligence;  adequate  and  certain  appre- 
hension is  ours.  The  mind  imbued  with  the  "  Positivist  " 
temper  will,  indeed,  remain  obstinately  dissatisfied  with 
the  result.  Such  a  man  will  declaim  against  natural 
theology  and  the  other  moral  sciences,  as  fruitless  of  all 
but  differences  and  debates.  But  the  friends  of  philos- 
ophy have  their  speedy  revenge.  Let  him  attempt 
to  reconstruct  the  moral  sciences  upon  a  "  positive  " 
method,  and  they  become  at  least  as  uncertain  as  the 
rest  of  us  unpositive  mortals.  Thus  it  was  with  Comte. 
As  soon  as  he  approaches  "  sociology,"  and  attempts  to 
treat  of  mind,  morals,  human  right,  and  government, 
the  Priest  of  Humanity  is  compelled  to  excommuni- 
cate many  of  His  earlier  converts  from  His  Church. 
Somehow  "  Positivism  "  itself,  when  it  approaches  this 
subject,  is  no  longer  "  positive  ;  "  it  guesses,  dogmatizes, 
dreams,  disputes,  errs,  fully  as  much  as  its  predecessors. 
What,  now,  does  this  show  ?  Plainly,  that  the  experi- 
mental methods  of  the  physical  sciences  are  incapable 
of  an  exact  and  universal  application,  in  this  field  of 
inquiry.  The  objects  are  immaterial;  they  are  no 
longer  defined,  as  in  physics,  by  magnitude,  figure, 


368  Sensualistic  Philosophy. 

quantity,  duration,  or  velocity.  The  combinations  of 
causation  are  too  complex.  The  effects  are  too  rapid 
and  fleeting.  The  premises  are  too  numerous  and  un- 
defined for  our  limited  minds  to  grasp  with  exactness. 
If  Positivism,  with  all  its  acknowledged  learning,  and 
mastery  of  the  sciences  of  matter,  with  its  boasts,  and 
its  confidence,  has  failed  to  conquer  these  difficulties 
in  the  little  way  it  professes  to  advance  in  the  science 
of  the  human  spirit,  shall  we  not  continue  to  fail  in 
part?  "  What  can  he  do  that  cometh  after  the  King?  " 
Let  us  couple  this  fact,  that  the  sciences  of  psychol- 
ogy and  morals,  with  natural  theology,  have  ever.been, 
and  are  destined  to  remain,  the  least  exact  and  "  posi- 
tive" of  all  the  departments  of  man's  knowledge,  with 
this  other:  that  they  are  immeasurably  the  most  im- 
portant to  his  well-being  and  his  hopes.  The  latter 
statement  commends  itself  to  our  experience.  It  is  far 
more  essential  to  a  man's  happiness  here  (not  to  speak 
of  his  hereafter)  that  he  shall  have  his  rights  justly  and 
fairly  defined  than  his  land  accurately  surveyed.  It  is 
far  more  interesting  to  the  traveller  to  know  whether 
the  ship-captain  to  whom  he  entrusts  his  life  has  the 
moral  virtues  of  fidelity,  than  the  learning  of  the  navi- 
gator. It  is  more  important  to  us  to  have  virtuous 
friends  to  cherish  our  hearts  than  adroit  mechanics  to 
make  our  shoes.  It  is  more  momentous  to  a  dying 
man  to  know  whether  there  is  an  immortality,  and  how 
it  may  be  made  happy,  than  to  have  a  skillful  physician, 
now  that  his  skill  is  vain.  We  see,  then,  that  human 
science  is  least  able  to  help  us  where  our  need  is  most 
urgent.  M.  Comte  reprehends  mankind,  because  "  ques- 
tions the  most  radically  inaccessible  to  our  capacities, 
the  intimate  nature  of  being,  the  origin,  and  the  end  of 
all  phenomena,  were  precisely  those  which  the  intelli- 
gence propounded  to  itself  as  of  paramount  importance, 
in  that  primitive  condition ;  all  other  problems  really 
admitting  of  solution  being  almost  regarded  as  un- 
worthy of  serious  meditation.  The  reason  of  this  it  is 


Philosophy  and  the  Supernatural.         369 

not  difficult  to  discover ;  for  experience  alone  could 
give  us  the  measure  of  our  strength.."  Alas !  the  rea- 
son is  far  more  profound.  Man  has  ever  refused  to 
content  himself  with  examining  the  properties  of  tri- 
angles, prisms,  levers,  and  pulleys,  which  he  could  have 
exactly  determined,  and  has  persisted  in  asking  whence 
his  spiritual  being  came,  and  whither  it  is  going,  what 
is  its  proper  rational  end,  and  what  its  laws  ;  not  merely 
because  he  had  not  learned  the  limits  of  his  powers, 
but  because  he  was,  and  is,  irresistibly  impelled  to  these 
inquiries  by  the  wants  of  his  soul.  His  intuitions  tell 
him  that  these  are  the  things,  and  not  the  others,  which 
are  of  infinite  moment  to  him.  It  appears,  then,  that  it 
is  unavoidable  for  man  to  search  most  anxiously  where 
he  can  find  least  certainty  in  his  own  light.  His  intel- 
lectual wants  are  most  tremendous,  just  in  those  de- 
partments where  his  power  of  self-help  is  least.  To 
what  should  this  result  point  us  ?  If  we  obey  the  spirit 
of  true  science,  it  will  manifest  .to  us  the  great  truth 
that  man  was  never  designed  by  God  for  mental  inde- 
pendence of  Him  ;  that  man  needs,  in  these  transcend- 
ent questions,  the  guidance  of  the  infinite  understand- 
ing ;  that  while  a  "  positive  philosophy  "  may  measure 
and  compare  his  material  possessions,  the  only  "  exact 
science  "  of  the  spirit  is  that  revealed  to  us  by  the 
"  Father  of  Spirits."  This,  the  anti-Christian  philoso- 
pher may  be  assured,  is  the  inevitable  conclusion  to 
which  the  healthy  reason  will  ever  revert,  as  the  needle 
to  the  pole,  despite  all  his  dogmatism  and  sophistry. 
Corrupted  religions  have  always  been  too  strong  for 
false  philosophy.  What,  then,  is  the  hope  for  it,  when 
the  pure  light  of  God's  word  is  poured  unobstructed 
into  the  mind  of  the  nations?  The  seventh  decade  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  at  its  beginning  witnessed  the 
arrogant  advance  of  the  Sensualistic  philosophy,  as 
though  to  new  conquests  against  Christianity.  The 
eighth  will  not  have  closed  until  the  ebbing  tide  of  its 
seeming  success 


B  R  A  ft 
I J  W  i\/rr»oi  t 


UNIVEESITY   OF   CALIFOENIA   LIBEAEY, 
BEEKELEY 


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